Tomorrow Once More
by adromir
Summary: What happen if Legolas was hit by lightning, and then lost over a hundred years worth of memory? Chaos, of course!
1. When lightning strike

**Summary : What happen if Legolas was hit by lightning, and then lost over a hundred years worth of memory? Chaos, of course!**

**Yep. I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! The auditors are gone—finally!—but they keep calling me to ask stupid and silly questions which a five-year-old can answer. But that's an auditor for you. I was an auditor once myself, though I don't think I was as annoying as they are. **

**Anyway, forget about them. Let's have some fun! I'm more than ready to give Leggy and family lots and lots of angst. Are you all ready to take them? Then read and weep. Or laugh. Or smirked. Or whatever. Your choice. **

**Warning : Be prepared for…uh…Just be prepared. Okay? **

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It was still dawn. The sun was yet to make its appearance. Thick morning fog shrouded almost everything, giving the entire woodland realm an enchanting mysterious look.

Yawning and stretching, Legolas Thranduilion stumbled out of his chamber. He was not an early-riser by nature, but the growling hunger in his belly had effectively roused him awake. He knew he would not be able to continue sleeping unless he fed himself some food.

He had skipped dinner last night. Hence, the wild need for premature breakfast. Of course, the first meal of the day would not be served until everyone was fully awake, in about an hour or so. He couldn't wait that long. Or rather, his empty stomach couldn't wait that long.

So he silently took himself off, heading towards the kitchen. The chief cook and the help should already be up and about right now. Surely they could whip something up for him—something simple yet edible enough to stave off his hunger until a proper meal.

The shortest route to the kitchen was through the rear staircase that was normally used by the servants, ensconced in the farthest corner of the family wing. He walked quietly on slippered feet past the closed doors of the royal apartments. In front of his brother's room, he paused to listen.

No sound from within.

A smile grew on his lips as a plot of mischief actively brewed in his head. He thought it would be great fun to bang heavily on Keldarion's door and then flee. It would be even greater fun to see the livid expression on Keldarion's face, though. No sane male—human or elf—would be pleased to have his peaceful sleep disturbed by that awful racket. It was utterly childish but Legolas just couldn't help himself. Driving his brother mad was his most favorite pastime.

He was rising both fists and was about to give the door some vicious banging when his stomach gave a loud rumble. Grimacing, he regretfully lowered his arms and walked away, continuing on with his main intention.

"Fine, fine," he grumbled. "Food first. Annoy Kel later."

After a dozen steps, he found himself near the king's chamber. And this time, he heard some strange sounds coming from within. Someone was sighing and gasping. And then there was a grunt, followed by a low cry that was instantly muffled.

Thinking the worst, afraid that someone was threatening his father's life, Legolas moved without thinking. He broke into a run and rammed his shoulder against the door. The door opened with a crash.

Rushing in, Legolas was immediately greeted by a feminine shriek of surprise, accompanied by a very masculine string of curses. He skidded to a stop and gaped, struck dumb with disbelief.

"Uh… father? You are…uh…well?"

Giving his youngest son a ferocious glare, Thranduil jerked at the blanket to cover himself. His companion had already buried herself deeper under the mounds of sheets and pillows.

"Do I look _un_well to you?" the king growled, his blue eyes flashing dangerously.

His face turning crimson, Legolas gulped and started blabbering like an idiot. "Gee, father…I…I'm sorry. I didn't know. I thought you were in trouble. I heard someone crying out and gasping as if having trouble breathing and…uh…well, it never occurred to me that…that…"

"Legolas?"

"Yes, father?"

"Outside."

"Oh, right. Of course. So silly of me. Really, I'm truly sorry. I hope I was not interrupting anything…"

"Legolas?"

"Yes?"

"_Now_."

Legolas needed no further reminder. He turned around and fled, pulling the door close behind him. Highly mortified yet equally amused, he made the effort to smother his bubbling laughter by biting the inside of his cheek and staring dazedly at the wall.

_Well, I'll be…_

He shook his head, totally bewildered.

_Now who would have thought that father…? Ai, Elbereth. I can't believe I just saw that!_

Legolas' mother had died giving birth to him. He knew his father would never stop loving her, knew that no other ladies could replace Marwana—Thranduil's one and only wife—in that special place of his heart. But Legolas was also aware that his father, despite thousands of years to his age, was still a virile, strong warrior.

_He can't stay chaste for the rest of his life, can he? Just because I never saw him show any favors to any she-elves, doesn't mean he has no…err… sex life_.

Good Lord. Even _that_ word made him cringe.

"Don't even go there," Legolas told himself, blushing hotly like a ripe tomato.

He started to fidget, knowing that his father would come out to confront him soon enough. The hallway stayed quiet and empty. Surprisingly, no one else had heard that small commotion just now. And that caused Legolas to frown. Keldarion, whose room was only three doors down, was a light sleeper. Even the slightest sound could jerk him awake and urge him to go investigate.

Unless he was busy doing something else.

_Really, I should have just banged on Kel's door earlier and save me this mortification, _Legolas thought, _I don't mind seeing my brother at it, but my father? Ai, Elbereth! Let the earth swallow me whole!_

Thranduil finally emerged. To Legolas' relief, his father now wore a night robe, his feet covered by a pair of light slippers. To his great unease, however, his father was also wearing a scowl. A very fierce scowl.

"Why didn't you knock?" Thranduil hissed when he was face to face with his son.

"_Knock_?" Legolas hissed back. "I thought you were in trouble. So I rushed in to help you."

"I was not in trouble."

"Yes, I could clearly see that," Legolas replied with a snort. "Why didn't _you_ lock the door?"

"I _did_ lock the door. You crashed it open!"

"Oh, right. I did that, didn't I? Sorry about that," the prince sheepishly responded. "But, hey, how could I know you were not in trouble but were having a…a…'night of pleasure' instead? You should have put a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the knob."

"_Legolas_," Thranduil warned, his eyes narrowing to a slit, "I refuse to be told what I should or shouldn't do in my own room, in my own house, in my own realm. When my door is locked, it is a _sure_ sign that I don't want to be disturbed. Is that clear?"

Legolas couldn't help but quaked slightly with fear. His father didn't look the least bit amused. Seriously, Thranduil looked incredibly furious.

"Yes, father," the prince finally nodded, taking a nervous step back. "I'm sorry I crashed in like that and disturbed you and your lady."

"She's not _my_ lady."

"Then who is she?"

"None of your business!" the king snapped. "Look, don't go blabbing to anyone about what happened just now. Not even Kel."

"Of course, not. Why would I?"

"Forget what you saw."

Legolas sighed. "Really, father. It's no big deal…"

"I mean it, Legolas," Thranduil harshly insisted, his hands fisted against his sides. "_Forget_ what you saw."

With that, the elven king whirled around and stormed back into his chamber, slamming the door shut.

Legolas winced at the sound, and then sighed in relief when he realized he still stood there unscathed with not a drop of blood on his person. Other people might not be so lucky. Thranduil would have probably executed them on the spot.

"Whew. That was close."

Wiping bits of perspiration off his forehead, Legolas changed direction and walked back to his room. He didn't think he would be able to eat, not after stumbling upon such a scene. His stomach could wait after all. He just wasn't sure he could face his father across the dining table at breakfast. Or any other time afterwards, for that matter.

Puzzled, he wondered at his father's explosive reaction.

_Why is he so blazing mad? No one was doing any crime._

He went stock still when it suddenly hit him.

_Father is terribly embarrassed, that's why! _

With a slight chuckle, Legolas resumed walking"Well, father, that makes _two_ of us."

Like before, he paused in front of his brother's chamber. A cunning gleam filled his eyes, a full heartbeat before he raised his fists and gave the door some serious poundings.

Seconds later, a disheveled looking Keldarion flung opened the door and yelled, "Son of a _warg_! Who the bloody idiot…!"

But the guilty perpetrator was already long gone.

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Legolas tried his very best to avoid his father that day, but it proved to be a lot harder than he thought.

As expected, they met at breakfast, where Legolas spent the entire time staring down at his plate. He didn't dare look up, let alone smile or grin at his father. Thranduil might think his own son was mocking him.

They met again in the common hall, where the preparation for a big party that evening was already underway. It was to celebrate the king's birthday. Even though he wasn't too keen with all the fuss, Thranduil still wanted to make sure that everything was precisely in order. He had important guests coming from every corner of Middle-earth, some had even arrived days ago, and everyone was anticipating on how grand the gala would turn out.

As the king was instructing the servants to bring down the frilly ribbons from the ceiling, saying aloud that the blasted things were only suitable for a child's birthday party, his younger son suddenly walked in with more frilly ribbons and trimmings over his arms.

Legolas halted at his father's glare. "What?"

"Was these your idea?" Thranduil waved at the trappings overhead.

It took Legolas some time to completely understand. "Oh, you mean the decoration? Don't you like them?"

"Are we celebrating an elfling's birthday or mine? Take them down." With a slight humph, the king turned and strode out of the hall.

Sighing, Legolas looked down at the bundle he carried. "Right. I guess not."

They stumbled upon each other several more times afterwards, with Thranduil giving his son gimlet stares as if daring him to tell anyone about what had transpired earlier that morning, and Legolas shying away as if expecting to get whacked over the head.

In the end, unable to stand the sheer awkwardness of the situation, Legolas decided to get out of his father's way. Besides, he truly needed some fresh air and to escape the mounting confusion. The palace was quickly getting crowded with arriving guests, as well as bustling servants who tried to get their job done even though the party was still hours away. He could no longer walk in the hallway without bumping into or rubbing shoulders with any one of them.

To his relief, the royal garden was deserted at this hour. It was approaching noon, and everyone else preferred to stay inside out of the sun. That suited Legolas perfectly, for he had the garden all to himself. Whistling happy tune, he headed straight for the tallest tree in the vicinity—an ancient but sturdy redwood. Some people even jokingly remarked that it was Legolas' 'brooding tree', which was his most favorite place to sulk and…well, brood.

But he didn't come here to sulk. Or brood. Far from it. He came here because he missed the tree so much. The last time he had used the tree as sanctuary was like, what? Eight, ten years ago? That had been too long, if they asked him.

_How old exactly is father anyway?_ Legolas thought, as he deftly climbed. To his chagrin, he wasn't sure. In fact, he didn't even dare speculate his father's age, let alone ask. Not unless he had a death wish. The king was getting a lot more sensitive these days, not to mention the vile mood he already had following that bizarre encounter earlier today.

_Never mind. I'll make Kel ask him_.

That decided, Legolas settled himself on the highest branch, almost at the very top. He could see everything from up there—the entire garden, the palace roof, the winding stream nearby, the surrounding woods, the rolling hills in the distance, the blue of the sky. It was a magnificent sight indeed, one that he would never tire to take in.

"LEGOLAS! Legolas, where are you?"

_Who is that calling me? Is it Kel?_

Puzzled, Legolas squinted through the surrounding leaves. He saw that it was indeed Keldarion who was looking about for him. And then he remembered—he was supposed to entertain the male guests at luncheon with his brother!

Ai. What a boring task that would be.

Without answering, Legolas jerked back down his head and hid himself behind the tree trunk, praying that his brother would eventually leave. But Keldarion could be very persistent when he put his mind to it.

"I know you are around here somewhere, brat! Now show yourself!" Keldarion kept calling, his arms akimbo. Frowning with displeasure, he scanned the surrounding trees but saw no sign of Legolas, not even a trace of his younger brother's golden head.

Keldarion swore. He must find Legolas before the luncheon started. The king had other business to attend to, and it was up to the two princes of the realm to see to their guests' comfort. It was not really too hard a task, but Keldarion always hated social functions. All that mingling and visiting and empty chatting was definitely not his cup of tea.

Unfortunately, Legolas didn't seem to like them either.

"You have to help me here, Legolas. I can't attend those people all by myself," Keldarion cajoled, trying to sound desperate—which was exactly the case. "Come on, brat. Be useful for a change."

Sniggering, Legolas stayed hidden in the tree.

When his brother still refused to appear, Keldarion growled, "Fine! Be that way. But beware, little brother. You are going to pay for this total desertion, you hear me?"

_Yes, I heard you loud and clear, big brother_.

Amused, Legolas watched as Keldarion cursed and stormed back inside. Whistling, he resumed his seat, leaned his back against the tree and smiled at the sky. He thought it wouldn't hurt if he took a short nap. And so he did.

Loud rumbling thunder woke him up not long afterwards. He was surprised to discover that the weather had taken a drastic turn while he was asleep. The sky was now overcast. The sun had disappeared, and so the temperature was swiftly dropping. Bits of moisture were in the air, a sure start to a heavy deluge. Lightning and thunders cracked and boomed merrily like an angry symphony.

Legolas sighed regretfully. He knew his little excursion had just come to an end.

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Thranduil straightened and pushed away from his desk.

_There! That would be enough for today_.

Satisfied with his work, the king closed the house ledger and stowed it inside a locker. He rose, thinking that it was time he got himself ready for his own birthday party. Striding across the study towards the door, he happened to glance at the opened window. What he saw caused him to halt and stare.

_What the blazes…?_

It was not the changing weather that actually caught his attention, but the sight of his youngest son climbing down a tree. The son whose supposed duty was to co-host the luncheon that still took place in the main dining hall.

_Why the sneaky little…_

Grumbling under his breath, definitely far from happy, Thranduil went to push open the balcony door. He was about to yell at his son when something incredibly bright flashed without warning, accompanied by a terrible rumbling roar. He instinctively ducked, but quickly looked up to check for Legolas.

The first thing Thranduil noticed was the redwood tree, now burning at the top. And then, to his horror, he saw his son, lying crumple in a heap on the ground. Not moving.

"_Legolas_!"

With a shout, Thranduil vaulted over the railing. He ran hard like never before towards the tree, screaming his son's name over and over.

"Oh, Legolas, Legolas…"

Sliding to a stop on his knees, Thranduil gathered Legolas' limp form into his arms and searched frantically for pulse. He grew panicked when he found none but instead saw the burnt soles at the bottom of his son's boots. Legolas' palms were also burnt, and there was a nasty-looking bump on his right temple.

"Please, Legolas. Don't leave us. Not yet." Praying that he was not too late, Thranduil settled his son across his lap and used all his knowledge to revive him.

Keldarion came running shortly after, pale and deeply terrified. "Father! I heard your cries. Is Legolas all right? What just happened?"

Thranduil slowly looked up. He had trouble speaking. "He…he got hit by lightning…"

"What? No…" Strickened, Keldarion dropped to his knees and checked his brother's vitals. "He still lives, thank the Valar."

"He was not breathing just now. He had no pulse and no heart beat. Somehow he managed to get them all back," Thranduil replied, unaware that tears were streaming down his face. He didn't mention that he had to thump Legolas' chest repeatedly, as hard as he could, to get his son's heart function once more.

Servants and guests began to pour into the garden to find out what was going on. They all surrounded the royal family, knowing without being told that something awful had just happened.

It had started drizzling, and lightning still cracked above their heads, but no one seemed to care…

**TBC…**

**Yes. I can hear the BIG issue you guys want to know: When is this story set? Before or after? Wanna take a guess?**

**Find out the answer in the next chapter!**


	2. Excuse me? What year did you say?

**Want to know if your guess was correct? Then read this chapter and check it out, mate!**

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_Several days later…_

The woodland realm was bathed in ethereal golden light as the sun slowly rose for its zenith. The birds were already out looking for grubs and worms, while the flowers in the garden began to bloom in myriads of colors. It was a start to a fine new day.

As for the royal palace, its entire household was back to its normal routine because most of the guests had departed for home. Everything was calm and quiet once more.

Or maybe _too_ quiet.

That morning found Lord Thranduil sitting by his younger son's bed—a common spot for him since that fateful afternoon. The king's face looked grim, filled with anguish and regret. His shoulders drooped slightly, and his normally flawless attire was a bit rumpled after a night of fitful sleep in the same chair.

Since the lightning hit him, Legolas had not awakened. He continued to stay unconscious, sleeping like the very dead, stirring not even once. He was totally unresponsive, even though they had tried everything to pull him back to surface. His eyes stayed close, his face stayed pale, his limbs stayed still—not unlike a broken doll.

Lovingly, Thranduil brushed a hand through his son's flaxen hair. The king leaned close to the prince's ear and whispered, "Come on, son. Wake up. It's about time you hear my bloody sermon. Please, you have to wake up and end this painful wait."

Like before, there was no response. Not even a twitch.

Thranduil was so desperate he added next, "Wake up now, boy, or I swear I'll put a blade to your head and shave it bald!"

When even threats also failed to rouse Legolas, Thranduil sighed. He picked up his son's limp hand and pressed his lips against it. Then, rising from his chair, he bent over and placed a kiss on Legolas' cold forehead.

"Sweet dreams, my son," he softly said. "But don't forget to wake up soon."

With great reluctance, Thranduil left the bed and went to the door. Outside, he met the rest of his family and what remained of his guests. They were about to look in on Legolas but when they saw Thranduil, they surrounded him instead and bombarded him with queries.

"How is he doing?"

"Has he awakened?"

"Any changes to his condition?"

"Will he wake up?

Smiling ruefully, Thranduil put up a hand to cease the barrage of questions. "He still sleeps, if you can call it that."

"No changes, father?" Keldarion's face fell, looking very disappointed. "Not even a slight?"

With a sad shake of his head, Thranduil gripped his elder son by the shoulder. "No changes whatsoever. It's as if time stands still for your brother."

Without another word, Keldarion pushed past everyone and rushed into Legolas' room.

Behind him, a lovely young elven lady started to follow but Thranduil quickly intercepted her, "Come with me, my dear."

She raised her tear-filled green eyes, staring beseechingly at him. "But I wish to stay with him, my lord. I'm worried that he will…"

"Oh, he will be fine, precious. Don't you worry," Thranduil soothed her. "Give those two brothers some time alone. Besides, I have a favor to ask of you."

Sniffling, she wiped the tears off one cheek and managed a smile. "And what would that be, my lord?"

"I'm hungry. Can you help find breakfast for me?"

As the king linked his arm through hers, she softly chuckled and let him steer her away. "Very well, my lord. Let us get you your breakfast."

Thranduil paused and gave his guests a sharp look.

"You all come and join me," he said, which sounded more like an order than an invitation.

They glanced at each other, sent one last rueful gaze at Legolas' door and went to trail behind the elven king.

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Different people waited by Legolas' bed at different times, but he was never aware of it. And, one evening, Keldarion was again watching over his brother.

To be honest, it was actually Lady Arwen's turn to play nurse maid. But Keldarion had bullied her out of it, causing her to storm away to the ladies parlor in a huff.

Hearing a small sound coming from his brother, Keldarion quickly jerked his gaze from the book he was quietly reading. He stood and peered at Legolas' face for a long time, but found no indication that his brother was rousing.

"Legolas?"

Of course, Legolas did not respond. He continued to lie still on his back, the same position he had taken for many days now.

Sighing, Keldarion sat back down and resumed reading. Unfortunately, he had a hard time to concentrate. He kept glancing up, hoping to catch tiny movements from his brother or any other signs of life besides Legolas' steady breathing. But there was nothing. Nothing at all.

To break the heavy silence, Keldarion forced his gaze back onto his book and began to read out loud,

"The sun is my heart,

Red and hot and burning.

The moon is my soul,

Pale and cold and waning.

"The river is my blood,

Clear and fresh and flowing.

The rain is my tears,

Heavy and many and falling.

"The zephyr is my love,

Tender and kind and comforting.

The storm is my vengeance,

Cruel and violent and unforgiving.

"The sea is my…."

Keldarion halted in mid-sentence when a gust of strong breeze from outside suddenly swept into the room, sending the drapes flying. He rushed over to shut the balcony door, tugging the drapes back into place.

"Why did you stop?"

Hearing that soft voice, Keldarion froze. He whirled around to find his younger brother watching him, dazedly.

Stunned, Keldarion just stood there with his mouth hanging open. "L…Legolas?"

"The poem," his brother added, oblivious to Keldarion's great shock. "Why did you stop reading?"

"The _poem_?" Keldarion blinked, finally coming out of his stupor. He steadily approached the bed, trying to appear calm and collected, when inside he was jumping up and down with joy.

_Legolas_ _has awakened! Ai Elbereth, my little brother has awakened!_

"Do carry on. I want to hear more."

His brother's voice was still weak, but Keldarion could hear him clearly enough. He obligingly picked up the book and continued from where he had left off,

"The sea is my life,

Open and far and infinite.

The earth is my death,

Near and harsh and definite.

"To forget is to lie,

To remember is to grieve.

To live is to die,

To die…is to live."

Silence reigned for several moments after Keldarion finished. The brothers mutely stared at each other, tears swimming in their eyes.

"That is so sad," Legolas managed to say over the lump in his throat. "Who wrote it?"

Keldarion glanced at the book and read the title at the front, "Well, it says here, _All Kinds of Musing _by…Thranduil son of Oropher."

Legolas' eyes widened. "You're kidding! _Father_ wrote it? I never knew he writes poetry."

"Neither did I." Keldarion grinned, his head shaking. "In fact, I found this book by chance. Father sat with you this morning, and I think he accidentally left this book behind. I was also surprised when I first discovered the extent of his creations that he has put down in here."

"Is everything else as sad as the one you just read?"

Sitting on the bed by his brother's hip, Keldarion replied, "Not all of them. He entered a date for each work, and so I knew he made that particular poem not long after the Great War, the one that killed our grandfather and uncles. Father must have been pretty upset then when he wrote it."

"From the way that poem sound, upset is an understatement," Legolas remarked. "It rang close to suicidal to me."

Keldarion's eyes twinkled with mirth. "You should read the one he wrote about _you_."

"There is a poem about me?"

Chuckling, Keldarion swiftly leafed through the pages until he found what he was looking for. "Ah. Here it is,

Eyes as bright as mithril,

Curls as gold as corn-silk.

Beautiful and charming and strong willed,

A pain in the butt especially when he sulks!"

Legolas reddened as his brother laughed out loud. "You made that up."

"No, I did not!" Keldarion laughed harder. He showed the page to Legolas. "See? It's written there—by our father's own hands."

Embarrassed yet pleased, Legolas shrugged and acted as if it didn't matter much to him. He shifted, wincing when every nerve in his body protested to the slight movement.

Sobered now, Keldarion put away the book and assisted his brother to prop his back more comfortably against the pillows. "How are you feeling, brat?"

"I am sore all over." Legolas grimaced. "And my head feels twice its size. What on earth happen?"

"Can't you remember?"

Frowning, Legolas shook his head. "Not really. Did I get hit by a carriage or something?"

"Or something."

Hearing the hoarseness in Legolas' voice, Keldarion took the pitcher off the nightstand and poured some water into a glass. "Drink this. You must be thirsty."

Legolas nodded his thanks, taking the glass in both hands. After several sips, he looked hard at Keldarion. "You look strange."

Keldarion cocked his head to one side, puzzled. "Why strange?"

"I don't know. You look kind of…uh…_different_. Older, maybe."

Smiling ruefully, Keldarion mussed his brother's hair. "Yes, well, I have been so crazy with worry about you I think I've aged so fast. When the lightning hit you…"

"Whoa." Legolas grabbed Keldarion's wrist. "What did you say hit me?"

"Lightning," Keldarion repeated. "You were hit by lightning, brother. Don't you remember any of it?"

Holding his temple, Legolas tried to think. "I…I cannot recall…"

"You were unconscious for many days," Keldarion quietly added, closely watching his brother's drawn face. "Two weeks, to be exact."

Legolas' gaze shot up. He looked terribly stricken. "H…how long, you say? _Two weeks_?"

"Yes." Keldarion nodded, seizing the water glass from Legolas' lax grip lest his brother dropped it. "Now you understand why I look like I've not been sleeping at all? You should see father. He looks even worse."

Bemused, Legolas gazed down at the length of his body, which was covered by a thin blanket to the waist. All limbs were still intact, thank the Valar. Overall, he was feeling quite numb. And very, very sore—especially his head. He was lucky that nothing seemed to be broken, though.

Or charred beyond recognition.

"Two weeks," he echoed in disbelief. "Incredible."

"What's incredible is that you still live," Keldarion said, cupping his brother's pale cheek. "Right after you were hit, you lost all signs of life. No heartbeat, no pulse. Nothing. Father was near to hysterics when he fought to bring you back."

"I guess I owe him my life."

"You also owe him—_and_ me—a good explanation." Keldarion chuckled, giving his brother a playful punch in the jaw. "What were you doing up in the tree, anyway? Shirking your duties?"

"What tree? And what bloody duties are you yammering about?"

Keldarion rolled his eyes. "Never mind. It's not that important anyway. But honestly, brat, only someone as insane as you would dare to sit atop the tallest tree during a thunderstorm."

Legolas stared at Keldarion as if his brother had sprouted another head. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't worry. It will come to you." Keldarion comfortingly patted Legolas' shoulder.

"I'm very sorry, Kel."

"Sorry for what?" Keldarion placed the glass back on the nightstand. "For causing us great worry? That's all right, brat. You never asked to be struck by lightning."

"I'm sorry about that, most of all. But I'm also sorry that I missed your wedding."

Keldarion went absolutely still. "My…my wedding?"

"We were waiting for your bride to arrive, remember?"

"Err…"

"So how is Arulin of Garmadris? Is she as beautiful as everyone said?" Legolas then noticed the odd expression on Keldarion's face. "Hey, what's wrong? Didn't you go through with the wedding after all? Have you postponed it until I wake up?"

Slowly, Keldarion rose to his feet, never taking his eyes off his brother. "Did you just say…Arulin?"

"That's her name, isn't it?" Legolas grew anxious by his brother's peculiar reaction. "Kel, what's the matter?"

Keldarion's face was quickly losing all its color. He raised one forefinger, as if trying to plead for time. "Wait, please. Can you tell me what year this is?"

"What? Why?"

"Humor me here, all right? What is the year now?"

Greatly puzzled, Legolas told him.

A shiver of dread ran up and down Keldarion's spine. "Are you _sure_?"

"Of course, I'm sure! Now what the blazes is going on?"

"Uh…" Keldarion realized he needed to confer with someone before he told the truth to Legolas. "Can you give me a minute? I'll be right back."

"But, Kel, what…?"

"I'll be right back, I promise," Keldarion yelled as he literally ran out of the room.

Legolas stared at the closed door, clearly dumbfounded.

_What was that all about?_

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Keldarion caught his father alone in the corridor, right outside the king's study.

"Ah, Kel." Thranduil smiled when he saw his son. "Aren't you supposed to sit with your brother? Arwen looked so vexed when I saw her just now…"

"He is awake!" Keldarion blurted.

"Excuse me?"

His face a mixed of emotions, Keldarion gripped both his father's arms and almost shook him in his excitement. "Father, Legolas has awakened."

For a few seconds, Thranduil was struck dumb. And then he yelped with joy, "Ai, Legolas is awake! All praise to the Valar! Finally it happens. Come, let us see him and…"

"No!" Keldarion held him fast. "Wait, father. There's more."

Thranduil frowned. "What's wrong now?"

"We…uh… we _may_ have a slight problem here."

"What problem? What do you mean?"

Keldarion halted, unsure if he should continue. He suddenly lost all courage he needed to relate the news that would surely wipe the big smile off his father's face.

"Kel, whatever it is, you _must _tell me," Thranduil insisted.

After taking a deep breath, Keldarion told him.

As expected, Thranduil's smile faded, and then disappeared altogether. "He has lost his memory?"

"I believe so."

"He thinks you are married to _Arulin_?"

Keldarion sadly nodded. "That's what I believe he said."

"What if your brother was just joking? You know that foolish sense of humor of his. He just loves to drive you nuts."

"But, father, Legolas would never joke about this, especially about Arulin. That witch tortured him almost to death!"

"What's going on here?"

They both whirled around at the feminine voice. Guiltily, Thranduil straightened, while Keldarion quickly avoided his gaze.

"You were talking about Legolas, weren't you?" she asked as she came closer. "Well? What is it? Tell me!"

Father and son exchanged identical glances of despair, and then they calmly told her. Afterwards, she promptly ran off towards Legolas' chamber, ignoring their urgent cries that asked her to wait.

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Legolas was tired of waiting. Still groggy, he swiped away the covers and swung his legs off the bed. His feet already touched the floor when the door suddenly burst open to emit a truly lovely elven lady.

Conscious of his half-dressed state, Legolas dove back into the bed and yanked the blanket up to his neck to cover his bare chest.

"They…they told me you have awakened," the lady said as she cautiously approached the bed.

Legolas blinked back at her like a confused old bat. "Err…_yes_."

She smiled, albeit uncertainly, and came closer. "I'm so happy, my lord. You don't know how worried I've been."

Legolas was so perplexed he stared at her some more, but then he gave her a shy grin. "Hey, I remember you."

"You _do_?"

Her face lit up like a candle as her smile broadened. Behind her, Keldarion and Thranduil rushed into the room and skidded to a stop. They both looked quite afraid for some reason.

"Of course. You are Narasene," Legolas responded, blushing slightly for he had been secretly infatuated with her since they had first met in Imladris centuries ago. "You are Lord Glorfindel's niece."

Her smile faltered. "That's right. I am."

"How is he, by the way? Did he accompany you here?"

"N…no." As tears rapidly filled her eyes, her voice broke. "I…I came here with…with my h…husband."

With that, she spun and fled, leaving echoes of her sobbing in her wake.

Legolas was clearly flabbergasted. "What the…?"

He blinked at his father and brother. "What did I say?"

With a pointed look at his elder son, Thranduil said, "Kel, you talk to him. I'll talk to Nara."

Not waiting for a response, the king left, leaving the two brothers staring intently at each other.

"All right. Something is definitely wrong," Legolas said. "Why is she here? Not that I don't want her around but…"

"She loves you, Legolas." Sighing, Keldarion went to sit on the edge of the bed. "She loves you so much it pains her."

"That's…that's flattering, but just now she said she's already married."

"Indeed, she is a married lady," Keldarion softly said, squeezing his brother's shoulder. "She is married to _you_."

Legolas was so shocked his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, but no intelligent words came out.

"She is your wife, Legolas," Keldarion gently added. "That's the truth, I swear."

"_My _wife?" Legolas was shaking his head. "But that's impossible. I can't remember getting married. In fact, _you _are the one who were supposed to be married, not me!"

"I _am_ married! But I'm not married to Arulin like you think. That horrible witch nearly killed you!"

Numb with disbelief, Legolas dropped his head in his hands. "I…I don't understand any of this."

"Legolas, before this, when I asked you, you told me that the year is 2901."

Legolas slowly raised his head at his brother's quiet statement, suddenly afraid that there was a lot more to come. "What are you getting at, Kel?"

"That was one hundred and twenty years ago, brother. The year now is 3021."

**TBC…**

**Oh, yeah. I can actually hear you guys shrieking from here. Just because I didn't mention her name, doesn't mean that Narasene wasn't _there_, right? He he…**

**Yep. It's _after_—after LOTR, after Nara, after _everything_. So, what now? **

**ANGST and nothing but ANGST, of course!**

**p/s : Remember Arulin? She was Keldarion's evil bride from the…well…'The Evil Bride' fic, of course. I will elaborate more on her—as well as everyone else's role in all this—in the next chapter. **


	3. My dear Narasene

**Hi, everyone! Sorry for the long delay. I met with an accident during a telematch game in Pangkor. Suffice to say, only now I can stare at the monitor without throwing up. LOL! **

**Want to know more about what happened to me? Visit the Manyan Chronicles Group and you'll find out.**

**Here's the latest chapter. But before that, I think I've forgotten to tell you guys one certain thing. **

**I know some of you are confused, but this fic—as well as the rest of my other _manyan_ fics—is totally AU. As in, Alternate Universe. Any discrepancies, mistakes or differences from Tolkien's original work, as well as the bizarre plots, are purely _intentional._ **

**Yes, I know. If Tolkien were alive, he's going to sue me for butchering his work. He he…**

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The chase led Thranduil straight into the solarium in the East Wing. There, he found his daughter-in-law on her knees against the love seat by the window.

Her face buried against the velvet cushions, Narasene sobbed uncontrollably as if her heart were breaking. "Oh, Legolas, Legolas. How could you not remember me? How could you?"

Her voice was merely a whisper but Thranduil heard every word. He quietly approached and sat down next to her on the floor, somehow managing to spare some space for the voluminous folds of her gown that spread carelessly all around her. Patiently, he waited until her sobs died down.

Sensing the king's presence, Narasene raised her head and stared forlornly at him with her jade-green eyes. They were wet with tears and bright with hurt. "He doesn't know me anymore, my lord. I'm just a stranger in his memory."

Thranduil gave her a gentle smile and reached up to brush another tear from her cheek. "Legolas _knows_ you, my dear. It's just…he doesn't really remember who you _are_."

Sniffling, she used a kerchief to delicately pat her face dry. "What's the difference anyway? He doesn't remember me as his _wife_. He can't remember when we first fell in love, our first kiss, our wedding, our…our sons…"

Her voice broke when she realized the true extent of their predicament. "Ai Elbereth. Legolas doesn't remember our little boys. Now what am I going to tell them? How do I explain if they ask for their father? Please tell me, my lord, what should I do? What should I do?"

Narasene burst into tears once more, her shoulders shaking from her sobs. Thranduil was so moved by her crying he had trouble speaking. He gathered her into his arms and rocked her, making soothing sounds in her ears.

As he tried to comfort his daughter-in-law, the elven king recalled the day three weeks before when his youngest son had turned up for the birthday feast, coming all the way from Ithilien with his small family in tow. Legolas had been so jolly then, bouncing his twin son in each arm and grinning ear to ear as he proudly showed off his 'little warriors' to everyone. Narasene had been equally happy, gazing at her three darlings with adoration in her eyes and a half-besotted smile on her lips.

It was a wonderful loving family that had arrived that day, but that seemed like a figment of his imagination now because Legolas—the core of that family—could not recall any of it.

"I…I'm terribly sorry, my lord," Narasene said after she gathered her composure a while later, slightly blushing. "I guess I got a little carried away."

Thranduil chuckled. "No need to apologize, my dear. I understand what you are going through."

"Still, it is not an excuse for my breaking down like that. My children need me, now more than ever. Legolas may need my help gathering the memory he has lost. I can't afford to lose control at a time like this."

"Nara."

At the sound of his kind voice, she tilted her head and looked at him. "My lord?"

"My son has married you, and you have become my daughter. You know what that means?"

Narasene smiled in spite of herself. "What does that mean, my lord?"

"Your joy and your pain are mine. And I _care_ for what is mine," Thranduil stated seriously. "We are in this together, daughter. You will not be left alone to handle this problem. If Legolas can't remember being married to you, than I'll _make_ him remember. I swear on this."

She frowned slightly. "You don't intend to hurt my husband, do you?"

Thranduil shrugged. "I might give his silly head a whack or two. Or maybe three. I'm sure the scrambled parts of his brain would juggle up and drop back into place somehow."

Narasene looked so horrified he burst up laughing. "Relax, dear. I was just teasing you! Besides, we need at least a sledgehammer to penetrate that thick skull of his. A bare fist would be utterly useless!"

When she looked as if she might cry again, Thranduil gave her a quick hug. "There, there. Don't worry too much, Nara. The worst has passed and Legolas is going to get better. Who knows, he might remember everything in the morrow."

"But what if he doesn't, my lord? What if he never fully recovers his memory, forever stuck in his past and oblivious to everything that have happened to him all those years?"

Thranduil gently nudged her chin and looked her straight in the eye. "Then we shall face it together with him, minute by minute. Soon, Legolas will discover that many things have drastically changed. That _he_ himself has changed. It's as if he has to start all over again, but at a very fast pace. He has nowhere else to go but come to us for answers, and we must be ready to provide them all, no matter how hard that would be. You understand what I'm saying, my dear?"

Narasene nodded. "I understand. But I'm afraid…"

"Afraid of what?"

"What if…what if he doesn't love me after all? What if he doesn't…doesn't want to be married to me?"

"Why would you think that way?" Thranduil appeared shock. "Nara, Legolas fell for you from the very first moment he saw you in Elrond's garden, chasing rabbits. That was exactly what he told me on the day he was about to wed you."

"Truly? He said that?" Narasene reddened with both embarrassment and pleasure. "But that would be ages ago, when I was just a young girl."

"Exactly. He has loved you _that_ long."

"And every time we journeyed home from Rivendell, Legolas always had this dazed look on his face, as if he had dropped his heart somewhere and couldn't find it," Keldarion suddenly spoke from the door. With a grin, he strode closer and helped Narasene to her feet. "Fret no more, little sister. Legolas' heart belongs to you. It always will."

Smiling shyly, Narasene straightened her hair and wiped any trace of tears from her cheeks. "Well, I guess he is stuck with me then, whether he want it or not."

"Oh, he wants it, all right. He just doesn't know it yet," Keldarion teased. Turning to his father, he added, "Legolas wishes to speak with you."

Thranduil halted, glancing furtively at his daughter-in-law who waited expectantly with wide hopeful eyes. He noticed next how her face fell when she realized Legolas had not asked for her. But, ever the strong-willed lady, Narasene squared her shoulders and beamed good-naturedly.

"Go," she told Thranduil. "Your son needs you now, as _my_ sons need me. I'm going to the nursery to check on them."

"I'll come with you, Nara. I believe Aislinn is already there. That wife of mine truly adores the twins," Keldarion said. Tucking Naresene's hand within the crook of his elbow, he led her away after sending a brief wink to his father.

In response, Thranduil looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh.

"Children. Can't live with them, can't live without them," he muttered, and went off towards Legolas' chamber.

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When his father entered the room, Legolas was standing outside in the balcony—his eyes distant, his arms crossed, a blanket draped around his bare shoulders.

As his father came to stand next to him, the prince quietly said, "One hundred and twenty years has passed. But I remember none of it. Unbelievable."

"What is the last thing you remember?"

Legolas bit his lower lip at this. "Well, it feels like only yesterday when we were preparing for the arrival of Kel's bride. Only that he told me just now he married someone else instead. And Kel got so terribly upset when I mentioned Arulin's name."

He abruptly faced Thranduil. "Why, father? What exactly happened? What is so wrong about that lady from Garmadris?"

The elder elf ran his gaze away, looking very uneasy. "Didn't your brother explain?"

"Kel could hardly speak of her name without frothing at the mouth. He completely refused to tell me anything more about Lady Arulin." Legolas shook his head. "What's going on, father? What is everyone hiding from me?"

_Arulin was a wicked witch_, Thranduil wanted to say, _She tried to take over our realm, she kept us prisoners in our own home, viciously tortured you after she robbed you off your healing skill by digging out the manyan stone from the back of your neck. She is why manyan healers no longer exist!_

"You will find out soon enough. Just not right now, son, not when you just woke up from a very long sleep. You are not ready—body and mind," Thranduil softly replied, turning to go back inside.

"Father."

Thranduil slowly turned. His son was staring beseechingly at him with pain-filled eyes.

"Please, father, can't you see? I'm lost," Legolas spoke in a broken voice. "I suddenly found out I have a wife. What else should I know?"

"Oh, Legolas." Thranduil reached over and pulled his son into his embrace. "There are too many things for you to know, too many things to understand."

"Why can't you just tell me what they are?" Legolas cried out.

Pulling away, Thranduil looked sternly at his son. "It's very complicated, Legolas. You are still unwell. Sweet Valar, you were hit by lightning, of all things! You need some time to recover. Your state of mind is not sound enough to learn everything yet, do you understand me?"

Hurt and confused, Legolas couldn't meet his father's gaze. A single tear ran down his cheek, and he wiped it off in one angry move.

"Legolas, terrible things have happened to you in all these years. That is all I can say for now," Thranduil continued in a much gentler voice, gripping his son's shoulder. "For the time being, you need to take it easy until your body fully healed. Do not force yourself to remember. Do it gently, one step at a time. You can't take everything in one bite. It might tear you apart beyond repair."

"That bad, huh?" Legolas smiled without humor.

"Well, you will eventually find out about some disturbing things about yourself. _And_ others."

Legolas grew even more confused. "Others? What others?"

"No, no. I'm not going to answer that today." Chuckling, Thranduil shook his head. "Remember what I said? One step at a time. You've already received one tremendous shock. Save the rest for later. In the mean time, I will order the royal healers to look into your case. Maybe they can come up with the correct herbs to cure your amnesia… "

"Will I remember it all, father?" Legolas softly asked. "Do you fully believe I will remember everything?"

Thranduil paused, settling his gaze on his son's face that showed myriad of emotions, including fear and hope. The father in him almost lost it then, to see his child so helpless, so vulnerable—so open to hurt.

"Forget what you saw," he had ruthlessly told Legolas on that fateful morning. And now he wished he could retract those words. He no longer cared if the entire realm found out about his 'extra-curricular' activities in bed. It was no longer important. All Thranduil wanted was to have his son back as his normal self.

"Given time, you will," the king finally responded and drew Legolas inside. "Why are standing out here anyway? Aren't you supposed to be resting in bed?"

Legolas managed to laugh. "I've been in bed for _days_ already! I'd rather go for a walk to straighten my legs."

"Are sure you are well enough to do that?" Thranduil still couldn't stop being overly concerned.

Rolling his eyes, Legolas retorted, "Father, I've lost my memory—not the use of my limbs."

"All right, all right. I'll back off," said Thranduil, putting up his hands in surrender. He glanced at the side table where a tray of food lay untouched. "Aren't you going to eat first? You have had no proper meal for two weeks. We have been feeding you only soup and porridge while you were unconscious."

"Believe it or not, I'm not hungry," Legolas replied with a grimace. He shrugged off the blanket and went to his dresser to take out a clean tunic. "Better leave the food for Foolish and Idiot. They might enjoy it better than I do."

Thranduil paled. "Err…_Foolish_ and _Idiot_?"

"My pet ferrets, remember? Those are their names." Legolas grinned as he buttoned up his shirt. "Speaking of those two, have you seen them anywhere? They should have showed themselves by now and peppered me with kisses… "

Legolas' voice trailed off when he realized what he was saying. He sat down hard on the bed, his face as white as sheet. "Lord, that was stupid of me. They are both dead, aren't they? It has been over one hundred years. Ferrets can't live that long."

Thranduil came from behind to give his son's shoulders a comforting squeeze. "No, they can't."

"How…how exactly did they die?"

"Not now, Legolas…"

"_How_!" Legolas jumped to his feet and whirled around, his eyes narrowing to a slit as he glared at his father.

"They were killed by a hunter's trap," Thranduil hurriedly said, and watched as his son flinched before he went stock still, his silver eyes glazing as if he saw things that no one else could.

Worried, Thranduil gripped his son's arms. "Legolas?"

"Those traps…those traps in the woods…" the younger elf was muttering to himself. And then he blinked and shook himself back to awareness. Letting out a heavy sigh, he said, "I really, _really_ need some fresh air."

Without further ado, Thranduil dragged his son out of the room.

"Where are you taking me?" Puzzled, Legolas could do nothing but trailed along.

"The nursery," came his father short reply.

"What nursery? Oh, you mean that _old_ nursery? But why?"

"Well, son, you are about to find out."

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All conversation stopped when Thranduil and Legolas walked in.

"Is something wrong, father?" Keldarion asked, rising from his seat. He frowned to see the secret smile plastered on Thranduil's face.

"Oh, nothing is wrong, Kel. I just want your brother to meet the rest of the family," said Thranduil. He tugged Legolas forward until the dazed elf came face to face with a lovely young woman who sat next to Keldarion. From the protruding of her rounded stomach and the high glow on her face, it was clearly obvious that she was in the second trimester of her pregnancy.

"Legolas, I want you to meet Aislinn, your sister-in-law," Thranduil proudly announced.

Naturally, Legolas was deeply shocked. He whipped his head towards his older brother, so fast he almost had a whiplash. "This…this is your wife?"

"Indeed, she is." Keldarion nodded, assisting her to her feet.

"But…" Legolas gulped with difficulty.

_But she's a mortal!_ he wanted to warn his brother, but stopped himself. Never had he seen Keldarion looking so incredibly happy. There must be some powerful reasons why he had chosen her, a mere woman, as his spouse.

"But what, brother?" Keldarion asked, his eyes as sharp as a hawk's.

"But…but I thought she…she…No, what I mean was, you didn't tell me she is a mother-to-be," Legolas lamely explained.

Keldarion was smart. He instantly knew what his brother truly meant to say, that Legolas did not fully approve of him marrying a mortal woman. But that was because Legolas had forgotten ever meeting Aislinn. He had also forgotten that particular 'story' that had led to that meeting itself.

"Yes. Almost six month, now," Aislinn spoke for the first time. "You will become an uncle, Legolas."

Legolas' mouth opened and closed several times, but then he leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. "That would be a great honor, sister."

Tilting her head to one side, Aislinn studied Legolas' face. "You don't remember me, do you?"

"No, I…" Legolas ruefully shook his head. "I don't."

"That's too bad, 'cause you haven't collected the wager that you recently won from me."

Legolas blinked uncomprehendingly, and then smiled. He was starting to like this woman. "What wager was that, my lady?"

"I'd rather you find it out yourself."

"Oh, I shall. You can bet on it."

"You and your betting sickness!" Thranduil grumbled. "Must have picked that up from too much hanging around with the Rivendell twins!"

The king jerked his younger son away, until they faced a small bed. A pair of toddlers was sleeping in it while their mother sat quietly by the side, watching over them both.

Narasene slowly raised her head, silent and waiting.

"And, now," Thranduil said in a low voice so as not to disturb the sleeping children, "I want you to meet my grandsons."

Everything went perfectly still, except for the suddenly fast thumping of Legolas' heart. He stared at Narasene, who lowered her gaze to start fiddling with the hem or her sleeve.

Speechless, he came near her and gently nudged her chin up. "Ours?"

Wordlessly, Narasene nodded.

"Yours—and _mine_?"

She nodded again, looking very uncertain.

Dumbstruck, Legolas turned and gingerly braced one knee on the bed. He bent over to stare in wonder at the pair of twins, inhaling the sweet smell of their breaths.

"By the Valar. They are beautiful," he exclaimed in a hushed voice.

"We are lucky they got their mother's looks and not yours," Keldarion quipped in the background.

Legolas weakly chuckled as he glanced up briefly, and then proceeded to count all fingers and toes of the two boys. "They are perfect. Absolutely perfect."

Looking up at the others, beaming with pride and joy, Legolas gushed, "I have sons. _Twins_, no less. Ai Elbereth, what a gift. I've never imagined being a father. It is such a wonderful feeling."

"_Now_ you find it wonderful," Thranduil interrupted, "But imagine when these two have grown and taken after _your_ penchant for trouble."

"Ai, what a scary thought." Keldarion gave a mock shiver. "_Two_ more Legolas? Arda will surely come to an end."

"Very funny." Legolas sent them both a dirty look. Then he turned to Narasene and took her hand. "How about we start over? Hello, my dear wife. I'm Legolas."

Narasene was able to keep a straight face when she replied, "Hello, dear husband. I'm Nara."

"Yes. I know that much." Legolas smiled into her eyes. "And now I want to know much _more_."

She blushed.

Seeing this, Keldarion and Thranduil exchanged knowing glances.

"I…uh…I have to go to…uh…have a talk with the royal healers," the king said, already heading for the door. As if on cue, Keldarion also began to supply his reasons to leave.

"The guests!" he claimed, tugging his wife along with him. "Our guests need to be informed that you have awakened, brat. So I'm going to go and do just that."

When they were finally left alone, Legolas and Narasene burst into a fit of giggles, which they quickly muffled with their hands lest they disturb their sleeping children.

"You saw how fast they escaped? I have a feeling that was not the first time _that_ happened," Legolas said.

"No, it wasn't," Narasene agreed, still chuckling. Her laughter died down when she realized he was intently staring at her.

Slowly, Legolas leaned closer until their noses touched. "You know what I think?"

"No. What?"

"I can't remember our first kiss, but I sure like to have our _second_ first kiss."

"Then why wait?"

Their lips met, gently at first, and then the kiss grew stronger with passion and ardor. It went on for quite some time that when they broke up for air, both were flushed and trembling uncontrollably.

"That was…Oh, my stars," Legolas gasped. "If I had not been already married to you, I would have wed you _now_, on this very spot."

She smiled back. "I won't mind a second wedding."

Tenderly, Legolas brushed a lock of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "You are so lovely."

"Thank you, my lord. So are you." Narasene blushed even redder. She gestured at their sons between them. "I believe you want to know their names?"

"Yes. By the way, who named them?"

"Why, it was you, husband."

"_Me_? They actually let me name my own sons after all those horrific names I gave to my pets?"

Narasene laughed. She placed a gentle hand on the back of the golden-haired toddler. "You named this one Hadrian, after Kel's late best friend."

"Hadrian. Yes, I remember him. He was gored by a wild boar while on patrol." Legolas regretfully shook his head. "I wasn't able to heal him back to life."

She held his shoulder briefly, and then ran a hand through the dark curls of their other son. "And this one, you gave the name Linden."

Legolas' gaze jerked upright. "Linden? Why Linden?"

"But why not?" Narasene frowned, and then her eyes instantly widened when she realized her blunder. By that time, Legolas was already on his feet.

"Where are you going?" She had also stood, staring with worried eyes at the strange expression that suddenly appeared on her husband's face.

Pausing at the door, Legolas responded, albeit distracted, "There is someone else I really need to talk to, my love. Don't worry. This won't take long."

And then he was gone.

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The headquarters for Mirkwood royal army was as Legolas had seen it last—pristine, sober, and strictly military. Several desk officers were still busy pushing papers, even though it was close to midnight.

The guards flanking the doorway immediately snapped to attention when Legolas walked through, but he was too keen on seeing someone that he barely noticed them. A tall warrior, a new captain by the look of the insignia on his lapel, came forward to meet the prince.

"Good eve, your highness."

"Good eve," Legolas absently responded, his eyes busily scanning the hall.

"How can I be of help, your highness? If you don't mind me asking."

"I need to see the Commander."

"Of course, your highness. Right this way, please." The young captain began to lead Legolas up a short flight of stairs on their left. After walking along a short hallway, they stopped at a dark-paneled door that stood wide open.

A senior officer was standing by the big table in the middle of the room, laboriously perusing a chart that was spread in front of him. His jaw dropped when he saw Legolas. "Your highness!"

"Jaden." Legolas smiled in response. "Busy?"

"No, not really." Jaden came around the table to clasp hands with the prince. "I'm so glad to see you back on your feet. The entire realm have been waiting for you to wake up, your highness. You gave us quite a scare."

"Sorry about that." Legoals shrugged, sheepishly. "Hey, look. I came here to talk to the Commander."

Jaden's smile slipped a bit. "But I _am _the Commander, your highness."

At this, Legolas' brow puckered. "You are? Oh, congratulations then. But…what about Commander Linden?"

"_Linden_?" Thoroughly confused, Jaden was struck speechless. He stared at Legolas as if the prince had lost his mind, which was not that far from the actual case.

"Linden has been leading this army since before I was even born," Legolas said, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling creeping into his heart. "Where is he now? Has he retired and settled down with a wife somewhere?"

"But, your highness, don't you remember?" Jaden asked with a worried frown. "Commander Linden was killed in a fire, trying to save your life and the king's."

For Legolas, the news was like a hammer blow to the stomach. His body felt like it was floating in thin air as images of a charred body flashed across his vision, making his head spin. Staggering, he blindly reached up for something to regain his balance.

"_Your highness_! Your highness, are you well?"

Someone was holding him around the shoulders, supporting him as he swayed. Legolas blinked repeatedly, and saw Jaden's anxious face just inches from his.

"Your highness?" Jaden asked again. When Legolas didn't immediately respond, the Commander barked to the other elf still waiting behind them, "Send for the healer from the infirmary! Quick!"

"No! No need." Legolas pushed off, taking a few tentative steps away. "I…I'm fine."

"But, your highness, you are as white as a ghost!"

"It's just…a headache. I have a headache." Legolas was not lying, though. His head was actually pounding like mad. He stumbled towards the door, and then paused to ask, "Where is he b…b…buried?"

"Commander Linden is buried in the Warrior's Cemetery, like all other great warriors before him," Jaden soberly answered, still couldn't fully understand what was going on.

Legolas weakly nodded. "Thank you."

The two elves watched in dreadful silence as their prince hurriedly left the room. They could have sworn they had seen tears in Legolas' eyes.

The young captain turned to Jaden. "His highness is definitely not well. Something is wrong with him, commander."

"Yes, I know." Jaden looked grim. "You cover the fort. I need to report this to the king and Prince Keldarion."

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Legolas easily found Linden's grave because it had one of the biggest headstones, with clear engraved lettering that said '_Linden_ _son of Danalas. Fighter, Friend, Family_.'

The word 'Family' caused Legolas to weep shamelessly. Linden had had no immediate family. His parents, his brother, his uncles—all had died a long time ago. The army had been his only family.

Still, Legolas could clearly remembered how Linden had been like a second father to him—always there to get him out of trouble, always there to guard and guide him, always there to simply give him company when he needed it the most. Linden had never had children—had never even married, in fact—but he loved both the Mirkwood princes as if they were his own sons.

Kneeling in the dirt in front of the headstone, Legolas thought of the hundreds of wooden warriors and animals that Linden had whittled for him when he was a little child. The last time Legolas checked, Lindens' stunning creations were still kept on display on top of the long chest in his chamber.

"This is not happening," Legolas whimpered, over and over. He found it hard to believe that Linden, the ever loyal and fierce but loving warrior, was dead.

"Legolas?"

Legolas whipped around at Keldarion's soft voice. He leaped to his feet and grabbed the front of his brother's shirt.

"Tell me this is all a lie!" he yelled into Keldarion's face. "Tell me this is a joke! That I have not lost my memories, that it is still the year 2901, and that Linden is still alive somewhere, happily married to a lady he has been craving for centuries! TELL ME!"

Keldarion gently pried off Legolas' fists from around his shirt. "I can't, little brother, because this is not a joke. This _is_ the truth. What you see is what it is."

The energy seemed to go out of Legolas in one big whoosh. He dropped back to the ground, sobbing. "Linden, no….He…he died saving me. And I never even had to chance to thank him."

His mouth dry, Keldarion knelt by his brother. He had rushed to the cemetery as fast as he could after being informed about the scene in the army headquarters. Wrapping an arm around his brother's heaving shoulders, Keldarion pulled him closer.

"Linden died doing something he loved, which was keeping you safe. He didn't need your thanks, Legolas. He knew you love him. That is greater than any grateful words you can offer."

Taking a deep breath, Legolas tried to gather his emotions under control. "Were you there?"

"When they tried to burn you and father in the fire, and that Linden was killed instead?" Keldarion shook his head. "No, I wasn't. I was…"

Swallowing a huge lump in his throat, he continued, "I was away."

"Who else has died that I should know of?"

"No more, brother. There is no one else, I swear."

"All right, then. Because I don't think I'm able to face another dreadful shock after this."

_Oh, brother. There are more dreadful shocks coming your way_, Keldarion sadly thought.

The two brothers then continued to sit there in the dark, side by side, staring silently at the headstone. Around them, the night grew older.

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"You really need to take it easy, brat," Keldarion advised as he led Legolas back to his chamber. "You can't just go running around with half your memory missing. You just woke up from a deep coma, for crying out loud!"

"Stop nagging," Legolas said, "You sound a lot worse than father."

"But at least I didn't blister your ears with long sermon when I found you howling at the moon in the graveyard."

"Oh, get away from me." Legolas shoved at his brother with half-hearted force. "I think I can get to my room on my own power."

"You are sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure! I'm not an invalid."

"Fine, then. Don't burden yourself more and just go straight to bed."

"All right, _mother_." Legolas yawned as he waved. "Good night."

Keldarion smiled. "Good night. Sleep tight. And don't let the bed bugs bite."

"Oh, shut up."

Chuckling, Keldarion turned away to head for his own chamber. Aislinn must have been waiting for him for hours. His wife had trouble sleeping without him by her side.

Keldarion was only a few yards away from his door when he heard a sudden crash coming from Legolas' room. It was followed by wild shouts and angry yelling, accompanied by loud thumping noises. Someone was cursing to the rafters. And then came the eerie sound of crossing blades, steel against steel.

Keldarion was already running when he heard Legolas' furious yell, "WHAT THE BLAZES IS A STINKING DWARF DOING IN MY ROOM!"

**TBC….**


	4. Gimli who?

**Who the heck is that Stinking Dwarf? **

**Oh, of course. **

**GIMLI!**

**Let's see what happens next! Sparks are gonna fly!**

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Keldarion burst into the room, just in time to see his brother furiously swinging a long blade.

The target?

The _neck_ of a heavy-bearded dwarf.

"Legolas, no!" With a shout, Keldarion took a flying leap and tackled his brother around the waist. They both fell to the floor, and rolled crazily about before slamming to a stop against the bed.

"What the…!" His face red with rage, Legolas started to curse anew. He shoved Keldarion off him. "Son of a bloody warg! What did you do that for?"

Keldarion had no chance to answer because the dwarf suddenly rushed past him with a sword held aloft, the one that had been hanging by a peg on the wall next to the door. The stout creature must have left his beloved axe in his own room before coming to pay Legolas a visit.

If it was not such a dire situation, Kelarion would have laughed at the comical sight of a dwarf awkwardly holding a blade as tall as he was.

"Gimli! Back off!" Jumping to his feet, Keldarion deftly caught the dwarf and literally tossed him backwards.

Struggling to regain his footing, Gimli glared. He looked so angry steam seemed to be coming out of his ears. "He called me 'stinking dwarf'!"

"You _are_ a stinking dwarf so live with it! Now stay back and let me deal with this."

"But he tried to kill me!"

"Gimli!" Keldarion snapped. "Just _hush_!"

The dwarf's glare grew even more ferocious, but at least he immediately ceased talking. Keldarion turned around to speak to Legolas—only to see his brother come charging towards Gimli with his sword raised.

"Legolas, stop!" Keldarion yelled, stepping in front of his raging-mad brother to block his way. "Drop your weapon!"

"I will surely not!" Legolas snarled, struggling to release himself from Keldarion's firm embrace. He tried to jab at the dwarf with his blade, but Gimli was safely out of reach.

Keldarion lost his patience. He grabbed his brother's wrist and gave it a vicious twist. Legolas howled, and the sword dropped to the floor with a loud clatter.

"See? I told you, Kel." Gimli excitedly gestured at Legolas, who was favoring his sore right wrist. "Your stupid brother has lost his mind, trying to kill me like that. He has gone crazy!"

Keldarion looked as if he wanted to kill the dwarf too. "He is _not _crazy! I told you before in the hall, as well as the others, that he has lost his memory. Weren't you even listening to me?"

Gimli shrugged. "Can you blame me? I never expected his malady to be this serious."

"Get out!" Legolas screamed at the dwarf. "I don't know who the blazes let you into this realm but I surely don't want you in my room. Now get out, you filthy animal!"

Gimli growled. Eyes narrowing, he made a move to approach the younger elf with his huge fists bunching at his sides.

"ENOUGH!"

Keldarion's tremendous roar could be heard from the farthest corner of the palace. He planted his feet between those two, sending killing glares back and forth. Usually a level-headed person, Keldarion rarely lost his temper. But when he did, it was a fascinating sight to behold. His face would quickly turn purple and his cobalt-blue eyes would grow so dark they went almost black.

In short, he looked deadly dangerous.

Stricken, Gimli reluctantly stepped back. Even Legolas went still and stared at the floor, silently fuming.

"That's better." Keldarion nodded in satisfaction. "Now, Legolas. As long as you stay calm, let me introduce you to…"

"Save your breath!" Legolas barked. "I don't care to know this…this…"

"Before you start calling me filthier names, I'm Gimli," the dwarf interrupted. "Say it, elf. Gim-li."

Legolas' eyes narrowed to a slit. "Oh, stuff it up your ass, you miserable…"

"Legolas!" Keldarion warned, putting a restraining hand against his brother's heaving chest. "Stop it before you say anything you might regret."

"What is there to regret?" Legolas spat back. "I don't even know him!"

Sadly, Keldarion shook his head. "Yes, you do, Legolas."

"He is a _dwarf_!"

"He is your friend!"

Legolas flinched. "That's preposterous," he said, grinding his teeth. "A dwarf is no friend of mine. A dwarf is no friend of _any_one. Period."

"Legolas…"

"Dwarves and elves have been at feud for ages, Kel. You know that. And yet you let this blasted creature stand here and breathe the same air I'm breathing?"

"The feud is no more."

"I don't believe you!" Pointing a shaking finger at Gimli, Legolas cried out, "I don't know what he did that makes you trust him, enough to let him freely roam our home, but I will not let this continue. I will not net let him come near my sons or my wife."

"Brother, you have to listen…"

"I will kill this dreadful beast and no one can stop me!"

Keldarion lost it then. Without warning, he swung his fist and punched his brother in the face.

The blow sent Legolas reeling several feet backwards, where he knocked into the nearest side table. The table tumbled over, and so did he. He lay there on the floor, stunned and dazed.

"Kel!" Gimli cried out, deeply shocked by Keldarion's action.

"This 'dreadful beast' is your most loyal friend!" Keldarion was shouting down at his brother as he pointed at Gimli. "You rode with him over thousands of leagues for months! You shared the same mount, the same food, the same water skin! You even shared the same mission, the same enemy! He watched your back from the beginning to the end! He saved your life over and over! He terribly cares for you, Legolas, and you call him a _beast_?"

Legolas tried hard to respond, but failed. The room was spinning on him. Strange images flashed swiftly through his brain, a great jumbling puzzle that was his memory.

He saw the dwarf and himself riding hard together through a vast field. He saw himself laughing at the joke the dwarf made. He saw the dwarf bending over him, trying to stench the bleeding wound in his leg. He saw the dwarf's compassionate gaze as he gave Legolas a comforting pat on the back. He saw the dwarf gallantly kissed the back of Narasene's hand. He saw his own twin sons giggling happily as the grinning dwarf bounced them on his burly knees.

With a moan, Legolas closed his eyes and curled himself into fetal position. The dwarf had been right. He _had_ gone crazy. He had lost his entire freaking mind.

Keldarion's anger swiftly evaporated when he heard the low keening sound his brother was making. Horrified of what he had done, he instantly dropped to his knees.

"Oh, Lord! I'm so sorry, Legolas. I…I just lost it. Are you all right, brat?" Keldarion asked, turning his brother over. He got close to panic when Legolas continued to clench his eyes tightly shut, not replying.

"Now look what you've done!" Gimli snapped, shoving Keldarion out of the way. With gentle hands, the dwarf lifted Legolas' head and placed it on his lap. He peered worriedly at his friend's pale face, and then jerked his gaze back up to glare at the elder elf.

"You bloody fool! Did you have to hit him so hard?"

"It was unintentional! I didn't mean…" Keldarion stopped blabbering and glowered at the dwarf. "Oh, _excuse_ me for trying to save your life just now, dwarf."

"I don't need you to save my life. I can do it just fine myself, thank you very much!"

"When I came in, you were about to become a very _stumpy _dwarf—without the head."

Gimli's nostrils flared. "When you came in, I was about to…!"

Legolas groaned out loud then, holding his head. "_Please_. Take this argument elsewhere. I'm dying here."

They both ceased quarrelling, only to have the sudden peace cut short as a horde of people rushed into the room. In seconds, the brothers and the dwarf were tightly surrounded and barraged with questions.

"We heard some loud noises…"

"What happened?"

"Why is Legolas on the floor?"

"Is that a bruise on his jaw?"

"Did you punch him, Gimli?"

"CAN SOMEBODY TELL ME WHAT THE BLAZES IS GOING ON IN HERE!" Thranduil roared from the doorway, his arms akimbo.

Legolas groaned, louder this time. The others—in various form of night-dress—immediately parted to make way for the scowling elven king.

"You are so, _so_ dead, Kel," Gimli whispered through the corner of his mouth.

"Shut up, dwarf," Keldarion hissed back.

"Well? Is anyone going to start explaining?" Thranduil demanded, staring down at the three of them with one eyebrow cocked upward.

"All is well, father," Keldarion replied as he stood. "Everything is fine."

"Is it?" Never easy to be appeased, Thranduil asked next, "What just happened?"

"We…uh…" Keldarion glanced at Gimli, whose only response was a stupid deadpan expression. Obviously, the dwarf was no big help in this one.

"Kel, why is your brother lying on the floor?" Again Thranduil asked, gazing with growing concern at his youngest son's half-conscious state.

Keldarion glanced down at Legolas, and then back at his father. "Seeing Gimli's ugly face shocked the senses out of him, I guess."

Thranduil blinked. "What?"

"WHAT?" Gimli roared. "Why, you lying son of a…!"

"Look, why don't you all go back to bed," Keldarion quickly cut in. He nudged his father and the others towards the door. "I'll explain everything in the morning."

Thranduil was not happy. "But what…?"

"In the morning, father," Keldarion firmly repeated, pushing Thranduil—none too gently—out of the room. "I promise I'll explain everything then, but not tonight."

"It had better be a good explanation, Kel, or I will…"

"Evict me from this realm. Yes, I know. Now, if you all would excuse me, I need to take care of my little brother."

Keldarion was about to close the door when Narasene and Arwen simultaneously asked, "But is Legolas all right?"

"Oh, he's just peachy." At that, Keldarion shrugged and bolted the door shut. He leaned his back against the door, closed his eyes and sighed in relief. The next thing he knew, someone kicked him viciously in the shin.

"Awww!" Keldarion hopped around on one foot while favoring the other. "Stupid dwarf! What did you do that for?"

"_That's_ for calling me ugly," Gimli replied with a glare, his beefy arms folded across his massive chest. "No one calls me ugly and gets away with it."

"What on earth is your problem? Everyone knows you'll never win any beauty contests, so why take offense?" Keldarion grumbled as he gingerly limped over to confront the dwarf.

"No need to rub it in, elf. Besides, you are not all that pretty, either."

"At least I'm not short like you."

"But I'm not as hideously pale as you are."

"And I don't have bushy beard on my face!"

Gimli frowned. "What's wrong with my beard?"

"It looks like a bird nest, that's what's wrong."

Both Gimli and Keldarion whipped their heads towards Legolas when they heard his sudden quiet voice. The ailing elf was now sitting upright, swaying unsteadily as he leaned against the side of the bed, a dazed expression on his drawn face.

"I don't know whether I'm dreaming or have gone mad or whatever, but can either one of you help me here?" Legolas asked his voice shaky. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Gimli hastily took a step back. "Oh, sure. Kel here will help you."

When Keldarion sent him a murderous look, the dwarf added, "Hey, I'm not the one who hit your brother. _You_ did!"

Cursing the dwarf under his breath, Keldarion went quickly to Legolas. He put an arm around his brother's quivering shoulders, fully supporting his weight. "You need a chamber pot, brat?"

"No." Legolas shook his head, and his face turned green. "On second thought, yes. _Now_."

"Gimli!" Keldarion cried out. "The basin under the bed!"

For someone with a stout figure, the dwarf could actually move with lightning speed. He grabbed the chamber pot and placed it close to Legolas' face—just in time for the imminent event.

After he finished upchucking, Legolas had trouble meeting their eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled, embarrassed.

"No, _I'm_ sorry," Keldarion said, putting down the basin. He then brushed a few strands of sweat-soaked hair off his brother's temple. "I shouldn't have hit you like that, Legolas. Really, I don't know what came over me."

"Oh, but I do," Gimli quipped. "You simply went bonkers! All elves are! Ha ha!"

The brothers looked at each other, and then stared at the laughing dwarf. This only made Gimli laugh all the harder.

"_This_ is why you won't let me kill him?" Legolas asked his brother, staring warily at the loony creature in front of them.

"Among other things." Keldarion nodded after a long-suffering sigh. "Come, Legolas, let me help you off the floor. You really need to rest now. You have had such an exciting night."

"Make that a _crazy_ night," Legolas muttered. Supported by his brother, he struggled to his feet and climbed into bed. On the other side of the room, Gimli was rummaging through a dresser.

Legolas saw this, and immediately rose and cried out in protest, "Hey, dwarf! Keep your blasted hands off my things!"

Chuckling, Keldarion pushed his brother back into the pillows. "Relax, brother. Gimli is just helping me get a towel to soak for that bruise on your jaw."

Still, Legolas wasn't sure he liked having a stranger poking through his belongings. "I don't trust him."

Keldarion paused, and sat down facing is brother. "You are saying this because you lost all memory of him. But one thing you can trust is my word, Legolas. And I'm telling you now—Gimli is one of your most loyal friends."

Deep in thought, Legolas grew quiet. He glanced at the dwarf, who now stood only a few feet away holding a small towel in one hand and picking at his teeth with the other—a wide grin plastered on his weathered face.

Grimacing, Legolas turned back to his brother. "You've got to be kidding me. He picks his teeth, for crying out loud!"

"Yes, well, he is not on my favorite person list, either." Keldarion sighed, his eyes rolling. "But, still, I know the kind of person he truly is. Gimli trusts you with his life, Legolas, as you trust him with yours. That's enough for me not to murder him on the spot for calling my paleness hideous!"

Another long silence ensued as elf and dwarf exchanged hard stares, sizing each other up.

At last, Legolas conceded. "Fine. He is my friend. Can I sleep now?"

For the briefest moment, Legolas saw a mixture of hurt and disappointment on Gimli's face. But it was gone instantly as the dwarf broke into a short laugh.

"Sleep? That's all you can think of? What a baby." Gimli shook his head, tossing the towel at Keldarion. "Here. Take care of his bruise before it turns blue and mars his pretty face."

The brothers watched as the dwarf went outside onto the balcony, lit up his pipe and started puffing away with vengeance.

Legolas blinked. "This might sound crazy, but I think I just hurt his feelings."

Smiling knowingly, Keldarion rinsed the towel in a basin of water before returning to his brother's side. "Despite his gruffness, Gimli is quite a softy. You should see the way he handles the twins. He is very good with them, and your sons truly adore him."

Legolas winced when Keldarion pressed the damp cloth against his smarting jaw. Something flickered at the back of his mind then.

"Kel, I believe this is the first time you ever hit me."

That caused Keldarion to go still. There was huge guilt in his eyes as he gazed down at his younger brother. "Actually, brat, this is not the first time."

Legolas looked perplexed. "It's not?"

"It's _not_?" echoed Gimli, who had stuck his head around the doorjamb to eavesdrop on the brothers' conversation.

The tip of Keldarion's ears turned quite red. "No, it's not. If I recall it correctly, this would be the fourth time already."

"The _fourth_, you say?" The dwarf grinned with glee. "Oooh, this sounds mighty interesting. You beat him to a bloody pulp, Kel, or did you just give him a whack or two on the butt?"

Keldarion grabbed a pillow and threw it at Gimli. The dwarf ducked, snickered, and stepped back outside to resume smoking.

"Crazy bloodthirsty creature," Keldarion muttered.

Legolas softly asked next, "What made you hit me?"

"What?"

"You heard me. What did I do that made you so mad that you actually hit me?"

Rising from the bed, Keldarion threw the damp towel into a laundry hamper and went to pour his brother a glass of water. "I'd prefer not talking about it, Legolas."

"Why not?"

"Because I still have regrets to this day," Keldarion replied, mixing some powdered herbs into the water glass. "I am not proud of what I did—to you, to us."

Frowning, Legolas shook his head. "I don't understand. What exactly happened?"

Smiling sadly, Keldarion continued to stir the potion with a spoon. "Eventually, when you remember everything, you will understand why I don't like to talk about it. But for now, I want you to rest. So drink this. It will help you sleep."

Legolas took the glass, and sniffed. "What is it? Sleeping powder?"

"Actually, it's a mixture of willow bark and some poppy seeds. It's for your head. Does it still hurt?"

"Yes, it's pounding like mad, as if some crazy dwarf was hacking away with his stupid axe inside."

"Hey, I heard that!" came Gimli's annoyed yell from the balcony.

The brothers glanced at each other and laughed. Legolas then winced and grabbed his temple, saying, "Great. The pounding is growing louder."

"Then stop talking and drink the potion," Keldarion urged. "You will go out like a light, I assure you."

Legolas drank, making faces at the taste when he finished the entire glass. "Before I forget, where's my wife sleeping?"

"She has been sleeping in the nursery with the twins since your accident," Keldarion answered, putting away the empty glass and started to arrange the blanket more neatly over his brother. "We were quite concerned that the children's noise might disturb your recovery."

"I want them back with me tomorrow night," said Legolas, breaking into a yawn.

"If you are sure."

"I am." Legolas drowsily nodded. He looked up at his brother through heavy-lidded eyes. "Well, good night."

"Good night, brat." Keldarion reached down and stroke the crown of his brother's head. "Sweet dreams."

Legolas didn't reply, though. He had already succumbed to the magic work of the healing draught.

"He is asleep?" Gimli quietly asked as he came to stand behind Keldarion.

The elf straightened. "Yes. I just hope he doesn't get nightmares from all that he has learned tonight."

"I will stay with him," the dwarf offered.

Surprised, Keldarion turned to him. "You will?"

"Of course. No nightmares will get to him without going through me first. I'll make sure of it."

Keldarion stared at the dwarf some more.

Gimli started to fidget. "_What_?"

"I'm still afraid that the two of you might kill each other."

"If he doesn't snore, I won't kill him."

"That's what I'm afraid of, Gimli."

"What the blazes are you talking about?"

"Legolas doesn't snore. But _you_ do. As loud as a hibernating bear."

The dwarf stared at the elf as if he didn't get it. But then he said, "I'll try not to go to sleep, I promise. Now you go back to your own room and give your lonely wife some company. Go."

"Try not to make him mad," Keldarion ordered as Gimli pushed him towards the door. "I'm not sure that his state of mind is stable enough to…"

"Yes, yes, I get it, now get out of here. Leave you brother to me." The dwarf unceremoniously shoved the much taller elf outside. "If you heard any noise or angry yelling or whatever afterwards, please be assured that everything will be under control."

Keldarion's eyes narrowed to a slit. "What does _that_ mean? Hey, dwarf! I'm not finished talking…"

Gimli happily slammed the door on Keldarion's face, shutting off the rest of the elf's words. Then came loud knockings at the door, but the dwarf ignored it. He walked back to the bed where Legolas now lay facing the other wall, frowning in his sleep.

"Oh, will you be quiet! Your brother is trying to sleep here!" Gimli yelled at the door.

The wild knocking immediately stopped.

"That's better." The dwarf heaved a sigh of relief at the settling peace.

Huffing and puffing, he dragged the 'waiting' chair closer to the bed. And then he plopped himself into it with a satisfied grunt, before shifting around for more comfortable positions. When he found everything to his liking, he leaned back, reached down and placed his large paw on Legolas' shoulder.

"Sleep well, crazy elf. This crazy dwarf won't leave your side tonight."

**TBC…**


	5. Gimli Again

**Finally! I'm able to update.**

**Here goes.**

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The very next morning, Keldarion was the first to rise. After kissing his dozing wife on the cheek, he quietly left his chamber and rushed towards Legolas', anxious to find out if either his brother or the dwarf had murdered the other during the night.

Legolas' door was unlocked. That may or may _not_ have been a good sign—depending on how you figured things out. Maybe after he had killed Gimli, Legolas had gone out roaming the palace and searching for his next prey, most probably the small group of Aglarond dwarves lodging in the guest wing. Or maybe _Gimli _had killed Legolas, and was waiting right inside to slay the next stupid elf to enter.

Keldarion shook his head clear of those silly thoughts. Muttering a prayer under his breath—and bracing himself for what he was about to discover—he pushed the door open and walked in.

To Keldarion's relief, he found them both still alive. To his unease, however, his brother was already wide awake—sitting in his bed with his arms crossed, and wearing a terrible scowl on his face.

"I can't believe you did this to me," Legolas hissed before the elder elf could speak.

Keldarion blinked. "What exactly did I do?"

"Him!" Legolas pointed at the dwarf. "You left me alone with _him_!"

Frowning, Keldarion walked closer and peered down at Gimli. The sleeping dwarf didn't even stir.

"Whatever is wrong? He looks fine to me."

"Of course, he's fine!" Legolas snapped. "_I'm_ the one who's suffering here."

"He did something to you then?"

"Are you deaf?"

Keldarion's frown grew deeper. "Huh?"

"Don't you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"He _snores_!" Legolas fumed. "He snores so loud I got nightmares in my sleep! Just listen to that sound. I'm amazed the rafters have not collapsed from the awful racket he's making."

Keldarion sighed. _Right. Just as I thought._

Shaking his head, he reached down and shook the dwarf's shoulder. "Gimli, wake up."

The dwarf grimaced, swatting the elf's hand away. With a snort, he huddled deeper into the large chair and continued on sleeping. And snoring.

Legolas swore. He grabbed an apple from the food tray and threw it at Gimli, hitting the dwarf square on the forehead.

That woke Gimli instantly. With a mighty roar, he leaped out of the chair—his fists upraised as he looked wildly about. "What? Who? Where is he? I'll kill the stupid bastard! Send him to me!"

Amused, the two elves just stared at him, enjoying the dwarf's ridiculous antics.

Aware that he was being watched, Gimli froze and glared back at them. "_What_?"

"Had a nightmare, master Gimli?" Keldarion asked, grinning.

"Nice bump you have there on your head," Legolas added. "You got that kissing a _warg _in your dream?"

His eyes narrowing, Gimli gingerly fingered the said bump. He then noticed the lone apple rolling about near his feet. When he looked up, he saw the big smirk on Legolas' face.

And then he saw red.

"You bloody idiot!" Gimli yelled, making a grab for Legolas' throat. "You hit me with the apple!"

Legolas laughed as he rolled away and jumped out of the bed. "What? You simply can't handle a fruit, dwarf? What kind of a warrior are you? All talk and no guts!"

"Great. Here we go." Keldarion rolled his eyes. He watched, bemused, as the dwarf started to chase Legolas all over the room, leaving a trail of disorder in their wake as chairs and small tables toppled over, glasses and potteries broke to pieces onto the floor, water spilled from an overturned basin.

Despite the mess, Keldarion had to smile. Everything seemed almost normal, with Legolas teasing and insulting Gimli, in which the dwarf responded in kind. In fact, his brother was actually laughing out loud, his face no longer looked so pale and drawn. There was high color in his cheeks now, and his eyes were shining with merriment. It was as if Legolas had fully regained his old self.

Well, _almost_.

Legolas and Gimli were running past him for the third time when Keldarion decided it was time he interfered. He reached out and yanked his brother into a headlock.

"Blast it, let go!" Legolas protested, trying to get free.

"All right. Enough playing around," Keldarion said, releasing his brother. "Though I'm very much entertained seeing you both behaving like a pair of lunatics, I must admit it also gives me some scary jitters."

"He threw the apple at my head!" Gimli growled in response. Obviously, he was still holding a grudge.

"Yes, yes, Legolas threw the apple at you." Keldarion sighed, his eyes rolling. "But can we put off the case for a while, Gimli? It's still too early for this kind of discussion. At least, not before breakfast, all right?"

Gimli's eyes lit up at the mention of food. "Breakfast, you say?"

"That's exactly what I said." Keldarion nodded. "So why don't we all freshen up before we head downstairs?"

"I think I'll take a bath," Legolas replied. He tugged at the bell chord to summon the chamber maids.

Satisfied that everything was under control, Keldarion started to leave. He paused at the door when he noticed the dwarf not following but instead went to reclaim the seat by the bed.

"Gimli, aren't you going to change?"

"Me? Oh, I don't need to. What I wear now is good enough for me," replied the dwarf, proudly running his hands down his dark tunic and doublet.

"But…you've worn _that_ for three days already." Keldarion looked quite aghast.

Gimli scowled. "Does it look dirty to you?"

"No."

"Does it smell?"

"Err…not really."

"Then why change?"

"Fine, fine. Sorry I ask," Keldarion quickly said, putting up his hands. He stepped aside to give way for the arriving servants, who were carrying several buckets of water between them.

"All right, see you two at breakfast," the elder elf added before he headed back to his own room.

Legolas silently watched as the servants filled the bath tub behind the screen, and then he glanced at Gimli. The dwarf was relaxing himself in the big chair, his eyes half-closed and a silly smile plastered on his face.

"Hey, dwarf."

"Hmm?"

"Do you mind?"

"What?"

Legolas sighed. "I'm about to take my bath, so can you please leave?"

Gimli chuckled. "There's nothing of you I haven't seen yet, elf. Remember the time when we had to take a shower together in Aglarond after we battled that mudslide in one of the caves where…?"

"No, I don't remember any of it and I hope it will _stay_ that way," Legolas snapped, his ears reddening at the tip. The maids were busy with their task, but he was sure they had taken in Gimli's every word. One of them even looked as if she was trying hard to contain her smile.

"Aren't you all done yet!" Legolas glared at them. They immediately straightened to face him, bowing slightly.

"We are done, my lord."

"Your bath is ready and waiting."

"We are leaving now, my prince."

Afterwards, they all hustled out of the room in a single file.

Legolas turned to aim his glare at the dwarf. "Thank you so much for flapping your big mouth. Now the servants have something very interesting to gossip about among themselves."

Gimli's only response was a loud rumbling snore. The blasted dwarf had fallen asleep!

The elf threw his arms up in the air, exasperated. Muttering under his breath, he went behind the screen and began to undress. He dipped in his fingers, and found the water not too warm and not too cold—just as he preferred. He then gingerly stepped into the tub and lowered his body until he was submerged to his neck.

"Ah. Bliss," he sighed. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. For several minutes, he did nothing but enjoyed the water's embrace.

Using a bar of scented soap left by the servants, he worked up some lather and smeared them across his chest and shoulders. He raised one leg, and was about to scrub it clean when he saw the ugly burn mark on the sole of his foot. He had never noticed that before, and couldn't seem to remember how it got there.

"You were hit by lightning," Keldarion had told him last night, but Legolas had a hard time believing it. Even as he stared at the clear evidence on his foot, he still found it hard to accept that he had escaped death after being struck by nature's greatest wrath.

"Hmm. Nice scars," came Gimli's sudden voice, very close to his ear.

Legolas yelped. He was so startled he lost his balance and slid deeper into the tub, submerging his entire head. The soap flew out of his hand. Waves of water sloshed crazily over the rim, creating a pool on the floor beneath. Arms and legs flailing about, the elf quickly sat himself upright, choking and sputtering the entire while.

"Valar almighty!" Legolas yelled, frantically rubbing water and suds out of his eyes. "Get lost, dwarf! I'm bathing here!"

"Want me to scrub your back?" Gimli offered.

"NO!"

A soft feminine laughter rang sweetly behind them. They both turned and saw Narasene standing next to the screen, a white fluffy towel draped across one arm.

Legolas' face instantly wreathed with a smile. "Nara."

"Thank you, master dwarf. I think I'll take it from here," Narasene said as she went to kneel by the tub.

Gimli glanced between them both. With a knowing grin, he took himself out onto the balcony and lit up his pipe.

"Oh, you are a sight for sore eyes," Legolas whispered as his wife used a washcloth to scrub at his back.

"Thank you, dear husband. I'm always happy to please you." Smiling, Narasene moved the cloth all over his shoulders, his torso and then down across his groin.

Legolas sucked in a deep breath, his eyes nearly crossed. "That's…that's a dangerous move, my lady."

"I'm glad you approve."

"Better stop now. Or I'm not the only one who would get very wet."

"As you wish, my lord." She started to shampoo his hair.

After a long uncomfortable silence, he said next, "Honestly, I didn't really want you to stop."

"I know."

"I can't explain it, but your touch burns me," he softly declared. "And I feel as if I've loved you for ages, even though I can't remember when it all began. You are like my other half, Nara. I just realize I can't live without you. Can't live without loving you."

Narasene paused and looked directly into his eyes.

"I'm sorry I left you so abruptly last night," Legolas added, moving his face closer to hers.

"That's…that's all right," she replied, albeit shyly.

"I want you. I want you _bad_," he whispered next. With a gentle hand, he cupped the back of her head and kissed her warm sweet lips.

But Gimli spoiled the mood when he suddenly broke into a string of loud hacking coughs. Legolas pulled away from his wife, scowling at the direction of the balcony.

"I forgot that he is still around," he muttered, and then, "Hey, dwarf! Quit smoking, will you? It's torturing your lungs!"

"Oh, so you _do_ have concerns for my health. Don't you, elf?" was the dwarf's smart reply.

With a shake of his head, Legolas looked at his wife. "Tell me the truth. Is he really my friend?"

"The best," she answered, "He trusts you with his life, as you trust him with yours."

"That's exactly what Kel said."

"Your brother didn't lie. And neither will I."

"But the dwarf is such a pain in my—"

"As you are the pain in his…err…whatever that is."

They both chuckled at that. He gave her another quick kiss before she proceeded to rinse his hair, gently pouring a pail of water down his head. At her orders, he stepped out of the tub and stood still as she rubbed him down with a dry cloth. Wrapping the white towel around his waist, Legolas came out from behind the screen and couldn't help grimacing.

The dwarf was now sitting there on the edge of his bed, grinning back at him.

"Oh, so you didn't drown. Good for you, elf!"

Legolas crossed his arms and gave Gimli a gimlet stare. "And your lungs still work. Good for you, too!"

Narasene kept one eye on them as she searched for her husband's clothes in the dresser. But she need not worry, though. The elf and the dwarf had lost all desire to kill each other. Drive each other mad, maybe, but no longer with hatred or malice.

"Look, I can't believe I'm saying this but…I'm sorry," Legolas was saying. "I've not treated you fairly."

"I can't believe it, either." Gimli's eyes widened, pretending to be stunned. "You are apologizing to me? _You_? An _elf_? Feeling so humble you admit that you were wrong? Wow. I must have not heard that right."

"Don't push it, dwarf." Legolas gave him a warning look. "I'm trying to be sensible here. My family told me you are my friend and I believe them. So I want you to forgive me for treating you like a…a…"

"A _dwarf_?" Gimli suggested.

Legolas' mouth twitched with humor despite himself. "Yes. _That_. I'm also sorry if I hurt your feelings by calling you terrible names."

For a long moment, there was no reaction from Gimli. Legolas waited, looking tense and hopeful. Narasene had gone still on the other side of the room, holding Legolas' shirt to her breast as she anxiously watched the staring contest between the Lord of Ithilien and Lord of Aglarond.

"Let me introduce myself," the dwarf finally said, holding out his arm, "I'm Gimli, son of Gloin,"

After a brief hesitation, Legolas reached out and clasped arms with the dwarf. "I'm Legolas Thranduilion."

"I know. I know that, my good friend. I always know," Gimli repeatedly said, fighting the urge to embrace the elf whole.

Legolas tightened his grip, astounded to see tears in the dwarf's eyes. "Kel was right. You _are_ a softy."

Gimli jerked in surprise. "I'm _what_?"

"Uh…lofty. You are so lofty. That's what I said," Legolas stammered a reply, backing away under the fierce glare the dwarf was giving him.

"Oh, master dwarf. Are you going to wear the same clothes?" Narasene interrupted by coming near, saving everyone from further embarrassment. "How about if you wear the red tunic, the one with the black trimmings in which I've freshly washed and pressed for you? You've always looked nice wearing that."

To Legolas' amazement, Gimli seemed to melt under Narasene's attention.

"I do, don't I?" Gimli was clearly flattered. "Of course. You are right, my lady. I'll go change right away."

The dwarf promptly left the room, smiling.

Legolas gazed at his wife with admiration. "Only you can do that to him whereas no one else can."

"He adores me, as well as he adores our sons," she responded, blushing prettily.

"Well, who wouldn't?" Legolas tenderly stroked her cheek. "Speaking of our sons, where are they? Still asleep in the nursery?"

She nodded, leaning her face deeper against his hand. "They will want to see you when they wake up."

"I can't wait."

Narasene reluctantly pulled away and handed her husband his clothes. "Get dressed, my lord. We don't want to be late for breakfast."

Smiling, Legolas turned to put the entire bundle onto his bed. He didn't see the wicked smile flashing across Narasene's face, a moment before she grabbed and tugged the towel from around his waist, leaving him in all his naked glory.

"Hey!" Laughing, he grabbed his giggling wife, trapping her within the crook of his strong arms.

"You will pay for that, she-elf," he said with a mock growl, running kisses down the back of her neck.

She closed her eyes and sighed. "We are going to be very, _very_ late for breakfast."

**TBC…**

**What? Still no cliffie? What the heck is wrong with Adromir these days? Hmmm…**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi, guys! I'm in a hurry so this chapter might sound as if its writer were…well, in a hurry.**

**Enjoy!**

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"You are late!" Thranduil growled when Legolas and Narasene finally made their appearance. The king, along with the rest of his family and guests, were already seated around the dining table after having had to spend nearly half an hour cooling their heels outside in the small atrium, waiting for the missing couple.

"Such tardiness, Legolas," Thranduil continued with a deep frown, clearly not pleased with his youngest son, "You should be ashamed of yourself. You have been taught since the cradle to never keep the others waiting but here you've done it _again_."

Even before Legolas could respond, his wife gracefully went down to one knee by the king's chair. "Forgive us, my lord, for our delay. But don't be mad at my husband. It was not his fault. It was all mine."

Thranduil was taken aback by his daughter-in-law's confession. He was so surprised he could only blink at her.

"I've missed him so much. And when we finally had the chance to talk, we…" Narasene blushed prettily as she explained, looking up at Thranduil adoringly. "Well, one thing led to another, and we…we couldn't resist each other so…"

"All right, my dear. That's quite enough," Thranduil quickly interrupted, chuckling nervously. Blushing himself, he stood and helped Narasene to her feet. "Explain no more, please. I think I get the…err…picture."

As Legolas came closer to claim his wife, Thranduil shot his son a scowl. "And _you_—try to keep your hands to yourself while at the dining table. This is not the place to act like a randy goat!"

"A randy goat? _Me_?" Legolas was dumbfounded. "But I came down here simply for breakfast!"

But his father was no longer listening. The king had returned to his seat and was waiting impatiently for the next dish to be served.

Turning to his wife, Legolas complained, "He will always blame me, no matter what you say to him."

"That's because you are such a hopeless birdbrain, elf," Gimli suddenly intervened. He rose from his chair and went to Narasene. Lifting her hand, he kissed her fingertips with much aplomb. "Let me have the honor to show you to your seat, my lady."

"Oh, thank you, master dwarf. You are so kind." Thoroughly delighted, Narasene let herself to be seated in the chair next to Gimli's. "And you are wearing that red tunic. I have to say you look very fetching."

Gimli guffawed in response, very pleased by the compliment. He kissed Narasene's hand again and the two began to strike an earnest conversation about wardrobe and such.

Legolas was left rooted on the spot, sputtering with disbelief. "You blasted dwarf! That's _my_ wife. Give her back!"

Unfortunately, the blasted dwarf didn't seem to hear, so occupied he was with whatever Narasene was telling him.

Laughing, Keldarion called out from his seat at the other end of the table, "Sit your butt down, little brother. Your lady wife will do just fine without you smothering her all the time."

Legolas bristled. He was advancing towards Keldarion to smack him for that remark when someone stepped into his path. He immediately halted, staring down at the dark-haired elven lady who gazed back at him with tears in her eyes.

"Arwen?"

She broke into a big smile and threw herself into his arms. "Oh, Legolas, you remember me!"

"Of course, I do. How could I not?" Legolas assured her as he stroked her head. "We shared the same bath-tub when we were little elflings, remember?"

Chuckling, Arwen pulled away and dried her eyes with a kerchief. "Right. That was also the first and only time I ever punched you in the face."

Legolas grimaced. "Please, don't remind me. Thanks to your fist, my nose remains crooked to this day."

"Your nose is not the only thing that is crooked," someone else said.

"In fact, your jaw looks so lopsided you resemble a freaking orc!" another voice helpfully added.

Legolas looked up and instantly broke into a huge grin. "El! Ro! You are both here!"

"You bet we are!"

Amid loud laughter and raucous greetings, Elladan and Elrohir grabbed Legolas into their embrace and squeezed him tight. Arwen, unable to escape in time, was also crushed between them.

"Thank the Valar you've finally regained your wits!" Elrohir enthused, giving Legolas' back a hearty slap that nearly sent the younger elf to his knees.

"You still look stupid to me, but that's a whole lot better than seeing you lying about like a corpse, right?" Elladan said next as he gave Legolas' hair a wild ruffle.

"Stop hassling him, you idiots! He is still recovering," Arwen hissed with a glare, pushing off from the circle of her brothers' arms. Grabbing Legolas' wrist, she dragged him away. "Come sit near me. I don't want these two to kill you with their over-exuberance."

Smirking good-naturedly at the twins, Legolas followed her. As he sat down, he noticed a well-dressed man sitting quietly on the other side of Arwen. The man was staring intently back at him.

"Legolas," Arwen asked, "Do you remember who this is?"

Frowning slightly, Legolas looked straight at the stranger. He worked his mind to recall, but couldn't decide who the man was.

"Forgive me, but I don't remember ever meeting you," the elf apologized.

"That's all right. I understand," the man replied with a small smile. He extended his right arm in greetings. "I'm called Aragorn."

"Nice to meet you, Aragorn." Legolas clasped the offered arm in return. Assuming that Aragorn was one of Thranduil's noble guests, he asked next, "Where are you from, sir?"

A strange expression flashed briefly across the man's handsome countenance. It was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. "I'm from Gondor."

"Gondor?" Legolas looked quite stunned. He wondered when his father had started making acquaintances with the people from the kingdom of men so far in the West. A kingdom that had no king to boot.

"Actually," Arwen softly said, "Aragorn is my husband."

Legolas jerked in surprise. Through widened eyes, he gaped at them both. "You two are m…m…_married_?"

"Yes. Almost twenty years now," she responded, stroking the back of Legolas' hand reassuringly.

"But…but…" Legolas stammered into silence, barely aware that everyone else at the table had gone still and quiet as well.

_First Kel, now Arwen. What is it about mortals that appeal to them so much? _he dazedly thought, having a difficult time to absorb this new revelation.

Legolas gave Aragorn a hard stare, mentally peeling the man layer by layer. But try as he might, he couldn't find any clear fault or flaws on the man's person other than him being a mortal. In fact, to Legolas' own surprise, he sensed that there was something a lot more to Aragorn—something extraordinary and powerful the elf had never sensed in other human before.

Seconds later, he came to another shocking discovery. _Aragorn_ _is a Numenorean!_

"Legolas?"

He turned to Arwen when she tugged at his sleeve. "Yes?"

"You don't approve." She sounded sad while saying this.

"What? No!" Legolas gave her a brief hug. "Oh, Arwen. Who am I to disapprove of the husband you've chosen? I'm sure Aragorn is a good man, the perfect match for you. If he weren't, your father or your brothers or even Kel could have killed him by now!"

Legolas was perplexed when his jest caused Arwen to tear up. His smile vanished. "He _is_ a good man, isn't he? He treats you well?"

"Yes, I treat her well. That's because I love her above all else," Aragorn spoke as he wrapped a comforting arm around his wife' shoulders, his eyes never leaving the elf's face. "I admit, I'm not always a good man, Legolas. But I can assure you, I _do _have honor. A close friend of mine taught me that honor and love are what we need most to make our life worth living. Without honor or love, you are as good as dead."

"Just like my father taught me." Legolas solemnly nodded. "Your friend is very wise then."

Aragorn had to swallow the huge lump in his throat before replying, "Most of the time, he is. The rest of the time, he is just a major pain in my…err…you-know-what."

Long silence ensued as elf and man silently regarded each other. Legolas' gaze was pensive, while Aragorn's was warm yet wistful.

_Please, Legolas. Please say you remember me_, Aragorn's mind cried out, willing desperately for his friend to hear his plea.

Finally, the elf grinned. "Well, Aragorn, I think I like you already. So glad to know you are part of the family."

Somehow, Aragorn managed to smile. He was disappointed, as it was not what he actually wanted to hear. However, he tried not to let his true feelings show. Legolas had been hit by lightning, for crying out loud! The poor elf needed time to fully heal and remember everything. Furthermore, to remember Aragorn was to remember all kinds of evil things that had happened. It would be a slow process, it would be hard, and it would definitely be painful.

_Valar_ _give him strength_, the man prayed, aiming a discreet rueful glance at his friend when the elf was not looking.

Beaming, Legolas turned to address the others, "Well? What is everyone waiting for? Come. Let's eat!"

"What? You blind? I _am_ eating," Gimli retorted, his mouth stuffed with sweet cakes. Seconds afterward, he emitted a loud belch.

"Oops. Pardon me," the dwarf quickly said as Thranduil shot him a glare.

The scene successfully restored everybody's good humor. Bubbling laughter broke at the table, a first in many days since Legolas' accident.

His face turning pink, Gimli sank lower in his seat as if trying to make himself disappear. Kindly, Narasene leaned down and kissed the dwarf's bulging cheek, which helped ease down his embarrassment somewhat.

Legolas proudly watched her, feeling like the luckiest person on earth. Yesterday he found out he had lost a big part of his memory, his history, his life. Only to discover that he had gained himself a lovely wife and two beautiful sons. The feeling was incredibly surreal he thought he was dreaming. If it was indeed a dream, Legolas refused to come awake.

As if being called, Narasene looked up and met her husband's gaze. She smiled.

Legolas smiled back, wishing there were no table between them so he could take her in arms and devour her there and then!

Narasene blushed to see the burning need in his eyes. When he deliberately wet his lips with his tongue, she blushed even more.

"Legolas, what the blazes are you doing?"

"Huh? What?" Legolas jerked at his father's booming voice. He quickly looked down at his bowl of lemon pudding, as if noticing it for the very first time. "Boy, this sure look delicious! I just realize how hungry I am."

"Then stop ogling your wife and start eating your breakfast," Thranduil frankly admonished, "By the Valar, son. You are as skinny as a bean pole!"

Now it was Legolas' turn to go red in the face. The others were laughing around him, Gimli the loudest. Legolas reached for an orange from the fruit basket and prepared to pelt the dwarf's head with it, but then he noticed that a prominent figure was missing from the table.

Frowning, he lowered his arm and turned to Arwen. "I don't see Lord Elrond. Where is he? Isn't your father supposed to be joining us?"

Everyone stopped laughing then. Arwen's smile faltered. Blinking back tears, she glanced helplessly at her twin brothers.

Elladan cleared his throat before he spoke, "Our father can't be joining us any more, Legolas. He is…he is gone."

The blood drained off Legolas' face. Carefully, he put the orange back into the basket and turned to give his brother a chilling stare. "You told me no one else has died. You swore on this. Were you lying to me?"

"I wasn't lying," Keldarion grimly responded.

"Then what of Lord Elrond? What happened to him?"

"Our father is not dead, Legolas," Elrohir said next, "The last time we saw him, he is alive and well. He has sailed for Valinor, about ten years ago."

"_Valinor_?" Legolas cried out in shock. "But…_why_? I mean, it's so…so sudden."

"It was his time, my son," Thranduil assured him. "Elrond never dreamed to leave Middle-earth so soon, but his path was already paved for him. He couldn't avoid his destiny. None of us can."

The elven king glanced meaningfully at his eldest son. "Even some of us who thought they were bound for the Undying Land found out later that fate has other things in store for them."

Detecting a hidden meaning in his father's last remark, Legolas swiveled his gaze back towards his brother. But Keldarion had quickly looked the other away, his throat working visibly as he reached down to grip Aislinn's hand as if seeking for support.

_Something is not right. _Legolas' frown deepened_. They are all hiding something from me_.

"At least our father did not go alone," Arwen said with a misty smile, breaking into his rushing thoughts. "Our grandmother sailed along with him. And so did Gandalf."

_Galadriel_ _and Gandalf too?_

Legolas shook his head in disbelief, unable to say more. He was numb from hearing one shocking news after another. Glancing down at his breakfast, he discovered that his appetite had fully deserted him. Sighing, he pushed away from the table.

"I'm sorry, I…I'm not really hungry," he stammered, standing there with lowered gaze. "I need to…to…"

Narasene was out of her seat and rushing to his side in a flash. She tugged at his hand. "Come, my lord. Let me take you to our sons. I'm sure they have woken by now."

Legolas nodded, deeply relieved by her quick rescue. He mutely followed his wife, out of the dining hall.

Thranduil looked at the others who still sat quietly around the table. Sheepishly, he smiled. "So. That went well, don't you think?"

Keldarion and the Rivendell twins audibly groaned.

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Narasene gazed at her husband. She was worried by his long silence, for he had not uttered a single word since leaving the breakfast table, looking so pale and pensive with his eyes devoid of any emotions.

"Are you well, my love?" she asked, tightening her grip on his hand.

Legolas turned to her with a brittle smile. "I'm fine, Nara."

Not fully assured by those words, she leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. He responded by draping his arm around her waist, pulling her close to his side. They did not speak again for the rest of walk, until they arrived at the door to the nursery where Legolas came to a sudden halt.

"What's wrong?" Narasene asked, concerned by his hesitation.

"You hear that?" He was listening in wonder at the sound of children's laughter coming from within.

"Wonderful sound, isn't it?" Narasene chuckled. "Morning is the twins' happiest time, I believe."

She frowned when he still didn't make a move to enter. "Legolas, what is it?"

"Am I a good father, Nara?" he quietly asked. "Did I treat my children well?"

"Oh, Legolas." Sighing softly, she kissed his lips and embraced him, rocking him gently in her arms like she would her children. When she pulled away, she gave him a hard stare. "Listen, honey bun, would I ever let you near _my_ children if you were a bad parent?"

Legolas grinned down at her. "No. Definitely not."

"You got that right. So let's get in there and greet your sons properly. They have been bugging me for days with the same question over and over—_When_ _is Dada going to wake up_?" Narasene's eyes welled with tears as she added, "It's about time they see you back on your feet. They've missed you so much."

Giving his wife a brief peck on the cheek, Legolas steered her into the nursery. The moment they walked in, they were instantly assailed by the high sound of children shrieking.

"Dada! Dada!"

A pair of little creatures ran straight for Legolas, moving so fast they were almost a blur. The next thing he knew, Legolas was knocked down to the floor with his twin sons squirming and jumping excitedly on top of him.

"Dada, you're awake! Dada, you're awake!"

"Up, Dada. Up! Come, play horsie!"

Legolas was laughing so hard he had trouble breathing. And the boys were hugging his neck so tight they almost strangled him! Amid their whiny protests, he sat upright with his arms wrapped around them both, kissing the crown of their heads repeatedly.

"My sons," he whispered against their hair, "So precious, so fine and beautiful,"

"So wild and stubborn as well," Narasene quipped as she gently pried Linden's fists from around Legolas' collar. When she reached next for Hadrian, the golden-haired child jumped up and ran to hide behind his father's back.

Chuckling, Legolas reached over and plucked Hadrian back into his arms. "Naughty, aren't you?"

Hadrian giggled in response, and then made funny faces at his brother. Linden retaliated by leaping off his mother's lap and into Legolas' embrace. The twins began to scuffle over their father's attention, shoving and snapping at each other. At Legolas' soft reprimand, they immediately ceased fighting and started to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt instead.

"You see, sweetheart? There's nothing to fear of. You _are_ a good father," Narasene remarked. Legolas shot her a grin and continued to play with his sons.

Smiling approvingly at their antics, she rose and turned to speak to the twins' nanny who stood watching in a corner. "Have they had their breakfast yet?"

"Certainly, my lady. Your children love the porridge so much they finished two bowls each!"

"They are growing boys after all, always hungry," Narasene said with a laugh. She then told the twins' nanny to take the rest of the day off. "I'll send for you when I need you."

"Oh, thank you, my lady," the nanny replied, curtsying to the royal family before she walked out.

Narasene already had her back to the door, collecting his sons' dirty laundry, when someone else tiptoed into the room. It was a young girl with long dark hair, wearing a pink-colored frock with little white flowers scattered down the front. She had her eyes only for Legolas.

Legolas saw her came in, but as he didn't know who she was, he just stared at her and wondered what the pretty child was up to.

"Uncle Legolas?" she spoke in that tiny voice, twisting her fingers nervously. "Uncle Legolas, don't you remember me?"

Narasene whirled around, surprised by the girl's appearance. She opened her mouth to say something but Legolas signaled to his wife not to, that everything was fine and he could handle the situation.

"Oh, my lady. Your beauty astounds me," Legolas gasped outrageously, a hand clasped over his heart. He also succeeded in looking terribly dazed. "My brain is so badly addled I can't even think straight. What did you say your name was?"

"Enelya," the girl answered with a giggle, amused and pleased by his words.

"That's right. You are Enelya, who always visits me in my dreams. How could I ever forget you, little princess?"

"You remember me? Oh, I'm so happy!" She threw herself at him, hugging him like she would never let go. "They all said you've lost your memory but I never believe them. I knew you would always remember me. I just knew it."

Legolas glanced at his wife over the girl's shoulder, raising his brows questioningly.

_Arwen's_ _daughter_, Narasene helpfully mouthed back.

_Oh. _

The door opened just then to admit Enelya's mother, looking a bit harried after she had had to search for her wayward child all over the place.

"Oh, Nelya. There you are! I knew I'd find you here."

Enelya jumped to her feet and ran to her mother. "Mommy, mommy! Uncle Legolas remembers me!"

Arwen glanced at Legolas before focusing her attention back to her daughter. "Does he now? That's very good news."

"He called me little princess, mommy. He always calls me little princess!"

Arwen had not the heart to set her daughter straight, that Legolas was always a smooth talker. He could easily make elven ladies aged between five to five thousands fall under his charm.

Legolas stood. "I should have guessed she is your child, Arwen. She is the spitting image of you."

"That's what everyone says," Arwen replied with a smile, as she lovingly stroked her daughter's hair.

"How many children do you have?" Legolas asked, quickly switching to Quenya so that the younglings wouldn't understand what they were saying.

"We have a son and three daughters. Enelya is the youngest." Arwen continued, watching adoringly as her daughter scampered off to join the twins. "Nessa and Elanor are in their room, reading poetry. Enelya is supposed to join them, but she…well, she's a lot like me when I was her age."

Legolas chuckled. "Yes, I remember. You were never the one to sit still and behave like a lady."

Arwen made a face at that. "Drove my parents crazy, just like what my youngest child is doing to me."

Even as she spoke, her daughter ran around the room with the twins. The children were playing tag, dashing wildly about here and there, shrieking at the top of their lungs, as they tried to avoid being tapped in the back and become 'It'.

"Where's your son?"

"Eldarion? Oh, he is left at home. He is sixteen now. When his father is not around, Darion is the one who has to look after the kingd…uh…family estate."

Legolas grew suspicious at her slip. "The what?"

Arwen was saved from answering by the sudden sound of her child screaming. 

"_Mommy_!"

"Nelya!" Panic stricken, Arwen rushed for her daughter who now lay sprawled on the floor next to a low table. The girl was crying in a loud wail, a thin trail of blood streamed down her left temple.

As one, Legolas and Narasene whipped their gazes towards their twin sons.

The boys stared helplessly back at them, their heads shaking. "We didn't do anything, we swear!"

"It's not the twins' fault," Arwen said, cradling Enelya in her arms. "She tripped her foot in the rug and slammed her head against the table."

"Oh, you poor princess." Legolas instantly went to his knees next to the girl. "Here, let me take a look at your head. I think I know how to make you feel better."

_Oh, no_.

Narasene gasped, as she immediately knew what Legolas intended to do. She frantically met Arwen's eyes, and noticed her friend's great anxiety that equaled her own.

"Uh… Legolas," Narasene started, "I don't think you should…"

But he had already placed his palm against Enelya's injured head, deeply concentrating his inner energy. He even flashed a quick grin at the still sniffling Enelya, but the girl looked more in confusion than in pain.

When nothing happened after several minutes, he frowned and concentrated a bit harder. Still, nothing changed. The cut on Enelya's temple was still there, not healed as it should be. At least it had stopped bleeding, but that was none of his doing.

Feeling highly uneasy, Legolas took away his hand and glared at it. He felt nothing—no power, no magic. His hand—both of them—felt empty.

"Legolas?" Narasene uncertainly touched her husband's shoulder.

Legolas whirled on her, scowling darkly. "What happened to my gift to heal?"

Afraid to answer, Narasene could only gaze sadly at him. "I…I'm sorry, my love. I'm deeply sorry."

"Don't give me that!" He snapped, standing up so abruptly that Narasene nearly stumbled to the floor. "Just tell me the truth, Nara. What happened to me? Why can't I heal?"

"Legolas, please calm down. There's a lot to explain about all this," Arwen said, trying to placate him.

But Legolas, terribly scared and angry, no longer listened to reason. "What is there to explain?" he yelled. "I can't heal, I can't remember a bloody thing! WHAT THE BLAZES HAPPENED TO MY HEALING TOUCH!"

Everything went quiet. Too quiet.

His fury spent by that outburst, Legolas looked closely at them. The two ladies were holding tight to their offspring as if protecting them from harm. They were all terrified. Of _him_!

Enelya buried her face against her mother's bosom, while the twins were visibly shaking with fright as they clung to Narasene's skirt, their eyes huge and lips trembling. Never had they seen their father so angry.

Arwen was staring boldly back at him, trying to put up a brave front even though she had turned very pale. And Narasene—dear and gentle Narasene—looked so hurt it broke his heart to watch her.

Legolas did the only thing he could then.

He fled.

**TBC… **

**p/s : Anybody here knows any hitman that I can hire to kill my boss? He's pissing me off! **

** Ok. Forget that. I'm just half-kidding. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Yikes! I'm late again. **

**Here's chapter 7. And it might sound a bit mushy to some of you. **

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What an uproar! Everyone was frantically looking for Legolas but he was nowhere to be found, as if he had vanished into thin air.

"Where the blazes is that boy?" Thranduil growled at no one in particular as he burst into the family parlor, a couple of hours after Legolas had been reported fleeing from the nursery.

His countenance a mixture of worry and exasperation, Thranduil went over to sit down hard in one of the overstuffed chairs. He shook his head and growled again, "Ai. Stupid elfling. I wish I had tied him to the bed and been done with it!"

Narasene, Arwen and Aislinn were the only other occupants in the room. They silently watched the upset king, having no idea what to say to appease him, quite afraid that he would start ranting or throwing things like a maniac. Thankfully, the young twins were off somewhere with their nanny, so the boys would be spared a horrifying scene if their grandfather started losing control.

Meanwhile, little Enelya was being watched over by her older sisters as she slept in her chamber. The cut on his daughter's forehead was not too deep, Aragorn had assured everyone, though he knew it hurt still. He had tended to the injury himself—patching it up and kissing it as his daughter instructed—before he rushed off to join the rest of the 'search party'.

Predictably, Thranduil could not sit still for long. He leaped to his feet and started pacing back and forth across the room, his face turning red then white and then red again.

"Why can't that silly boy just calm down and be sensible for a minute?" he grumbled, "What's with this vanishing act? Is running away going to solve all his problems? Surely not! Ai! I could get a heart failure from this nonsense!"

Looking a bit shaken, Narasene rose. "I beg your forgiveness, my lord. I admit that this is my fault."

Thranduil came to a halt. He turned to his daughter-in-law, and cursed himself when he noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Nara, my dear, I do not blame you," he crooned as he gathered her into his arms.

"I should have explained better to him," Narasene whimpered against the king's shoulder. "Oh, why did I easily let him go? He is hurting, he is in shock, and Valar knows what he will do in his current state of mind. I should have stopped him, my lord. Instead, I just stood there and did nothing, as if I were a mere stranger."

Thranduil stroked her hair. "We all seems like strangers to him now, Nara. You are not the only one who feels that way."

"I swear I could hear his heart breaking when he found out he doesn't have the gift anymore," Narasene continued to sob. "I wish I could bear at least half of his pain."

"I wish I could, too, Nara." Thranduil sighed. "I wish I could, too."

Keldarion walked into the room a moment afterwards, followed by Aragorn and Gimli. Thranduil and the three ladies stared at them expectantly.

"Well?" the king asked, "Did you find him?"

Keldarion sighed wearily, Aragorn sadly shook his head, and Gimli glanced behind him before saying, "As he is not with us the answer is obviously 'no'."

Grimacing at the dwarf's weak attempt at humor, Keldarion went to sit next to his wife. "We have looked everywhere and searched every corner of this place, but no Legolas."

"We even climbed up every tree in the vicinity, but it seems he has totally abandoned his most favorite brooding space," Aragorn added, reaching for Arwen's hand. "Ell and Ro have gone riding into the woods. So far, they haven't returned with any news. Maybe they will get better results."

"I hope they will find him soon." Arwen nodded, giving her husband's hand a comforting squeeze.

"That's what I was hoping to find when I went to check the stream outside the palace wall just now," Gimli said, "But that crazy elf was not there dunking his stupid head like he was supposed to!"

Keldarion and Aragorn groaned in unison at the dwarf's candor. Thranduil scowled, and was about to speak his mind when Commander Jaden suddenly appeared at the door.

"Pardon me, my lords," said the seasoned warrior, "But I just received a report on Lord Legolas."

Everyone snapped to attention at that. They all swarmed the commander and started asking him frantic questions,

"What is it?"

"Has he been found?"

"Is he well?"

"Where is he?"

Jaden waited for silence before answering, "Some of my officers saw him in the infirmary."

"The _infirmary_?" Keldarion's eyes widened, surprised. He had not thought to check there.

"But what is he doing there?" Aragorn asked next, a second before the answer came to him. "_Oh_."

"I will go talk to him," Narasene softly said.

"No, let me," Keldarion declared, already heading for the door. He was jerked to a stop when someone yanked at the back of his shirt.

"No. _I_ will go," Thranduil announced and released his son.

Keldarion opened his mouth to protest but the king would hear none of it. "He is _my_ son. As his father, I'm the most responsible to wisely tackle this matter."

Without waiting for anyone to contest that statement, the king of Eryn Lasgalen straightened his already perfect attire and strode calmly out of the parlor.

The moment Thranduil stepped into the infirmary all the staffs on duty immediately dropped everything and gave him their full attention.

A corner of the king's mouth tilted upward—amused by their reaction. Well, it was not everyday that his royal majesty made appearance in the most miserable and gloomy place of the realm.

Rows of beds lined up against both walls, all fully occupied. The smell of sickness, as well as the sharp tang of medicinal herbs, was high in the air. Amid the solemn hush normally found in a sick place, there was the occasional sound of someone groaning or coughing. Most of the patients were either asleep or unconscious, depends on their state of injuries or illness. Those who were awake stared at Thranduil with their mouth hanging opened, rendered completely speechless by his surprise visit.

"At ease, everyone. At ease," Thranduil assured them. The elves went back to their business, though they still sent him furtive glances every now and then.

A much elder elf, obviously the chief of staffs, rushed over to meet the king. "Pardon us, my lord. We had no idea you were coming, or we would have…"

"It's all right, Faglond," Thranduil cut in. "I understand that my son is around here, somewhere?"

"Lord Legolas, you mean?" Faglond brightened. "Indeed, he _is_ here, my lord. His highness has been assisting us with the healing since he arrived. Coincidentally, the woods patrol has returned with severely wounded members among them. They had been attacked by a large group of wandering orcs, not far from the Eastern border."

Thranduil looked around him. "I don't see Legolas. Where is he?"

"He is in the surgery chamber, my lord. I will take you to him."

As he showed Thranduil the way, Faglond lowered his voice when he added, "I have to be honest, my lord. I'm worried about his highness. When he came in here, he looked so…so lost. He insisted to lend a hand with the patients, and I could hardly say no. _Something_ is terribly bothering him, I'm sure of it."

Thranduil nodded, but said nothing in reply. Let the other elf wonder what was going on. The king had a more important task other than to satisfy Faglond's obvious curiosity, like dragging his son home by the ear and talking some sense into his silly head.

"There he is, my lord," Faglond quietly said when they reached the surgery.

A still body of an elven warrior covered with multiple cuts and holes lay sprawled on the examination slab in the middle of the room. But that was not what caught Thranduil's rivet interest. He looked only at his son.

Legolas was on his knees next to the slab, scrubbing angrily at the floor with a damp towel. The once beautiful marble was now smeared with a large amount of spilt blood of the dead warrior.

_Oh, Legolas,_ Thranduil mourned inwardly. _What are you doing to yourself?_

Sensing the new presence, Legolas paused and looked up.

"We couldn't save him. He has lost too much blood," the prince gravely said, sending Thranduil an accusing stare.

Faglond glanced between father and son. Noticing the heightening tension, he quickly signaled to a couple of surgery attendants who were cleaning utensils at the washbasin to exit the room. After they all left, Thranduil was still rooted to the spot and Legolas had resumed scrubbing the floor.

With a soft sigh, Thranduil moved and went down to his haunches next to his son. He reached and gently pried the dirty towel off Legolas' hands. "This is not the work of a prince."

His gaze icy cold, Legolas snatched back the cloth. "_This_ is the work of a healer."

"Which you aren't, my son. Not anymore"

The blood drained off Legolas' face when he heard those words. He gripped the towel so hard his knuckles turned white, and hastily turned away before his father could see the tears welling in his eyes.

"Come with me, Legolas. It is time we talk," Thranduil cajoled, placing a hand on his son's back.

At first, there was no immediate response. Legolas did not speak for a long time, staring into space. His Adam's apple bobbed repeatedly as he swallowed the huge lump in his throat.

"I will tell you what happened," the king promised. "I will answer all your questions, but you need to come with me. You don't belong here."

Legolas chuckled without humor. "Then where do I belong, exactly?"

"For now, you belong with me."

Slowly, Legolas turned back to his father. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to speak, but no sound came out.

Thranduil rose. Smiling amiably, he extended one arm to his son. "Rise, son, and let's go home."

Legolas looked at the offered hand for another long moment, before he reached up and held on to it as he got to his feet.

"You will tell me everything?" he asked, watching his father's face closely.

"Everything that matters."

His arm draped protectively around his son's shoulders, Thranduil led the way back to the palace.

Thranduil and Legolas closeted themselves in the king's spacious study. They sat facing each other in identical chairs, no table between them. Legolas had even taken the time to wash the blood and grime off his hands, using his father's personal washbowl which the servant had placed in one niche of the room.

On surface, both elves looked perfectly composed, as if they were about to have a casual talk between father and son. Inwardly, great storms were raging, waiting to be unleashed.

The king gazed thoughtfully at his child, trying to guess Legolas' true feeling. But the younger elf was avoiding his eyes, staring down at his feet instead. Valar knows what was playing inside his golden head.

"It all happened over a century ago," Thranduil finally began, "One hundred and twenty years, to be exact."

Legolas looked up then. "That is the entire memory that I've lost. One hundred and twenty years ago, we were all waiting for the arrival of Arulin from Gamardris, Kel's intended bride."

Thranduil winced at that. "Luckily, the wedding never took place."

"Obviously, something _else_ did," Legolas retorted. "What happened that day? Did she arrive, or did she not?"

"She arrived, all right." Thranduil nodded, wishing that he had not made the promise to explain. But he had given his words, so he must carry on with it.

_Ai, this is going to be hard._

"Yes, Arulin arrived that day. And she brought along her darkness with her."

His face devoid of any emotions, Legolas listened intently as his father told the story, of how Arulin had captivated everyone with her grace and beauty from the moment she set foot on Mirkwood's soil.

Everyone but Legolas.

"Her mount panicked when your pet ferrets suddenly ran by, unsaddling her. _Foolish_ and _Idiot_, indeed. Insufferable as they were, I still miss those two creatures," Thranduil said, smiling at the memory. "Arulin hit the ground hard and turned her ankle. You quickly went to help but when you touched her, you instantly knew she was not what she seemed."

"What was wrong with her?" Legolas leaned forward, curious now.

"Everything _about_ her was wrong, but only you could sense it. And when you voiced out your suspicions to me, I didn't believe you." Thranduil appeared contrite. He brushed invisible lint off his sleeve before adding, "Instead, I believed _her_ when she said you tried to molest her. And that was exactly how we found the both of you in the garden—you were pinning her to the ground and she was thrashing about, crying for help."

Legolas visibly jerked with shock. His lips trembled as he struggled to speak. "I…I would _never_ do such a despicable thing!"

"No, you wouldn't," Thranduil wearily agreed.

"My own brother's intended bride, of all person. My would-be _sister_!" Legolas leaped out of his chair and ran to stand at the opened window, his chest heaving. There was fire in his eyes as he vowed, "I can act wicked sometimes, father, but I have a heart. I would never hurt anyone so callously. "

Thranduil also rose, but kept his distance from his son. "At the time, I was deceived by my own eyes. Arulin fooled us all with her treachery. You were found guilty of assault. As punishment, you were flogged in the public square so all our people could stand witness."

Turning around, Legolas stared in disbelief at his father. Tears slowly streamed down his face, falling unnoticed to the floor.

"If there was a day that you wished to kill me, I think _that _was the day," Thranduil continued, "Ai, I felt like killing myself too. I was deeply hurt by what I thought you did, that you had shamed me. All evidence and witnesses involved pointed that you were guilty, though I had doubts myself. But I…I couldn't withdraw the sentence that had been put upon you. My words are law. Justice must prevail, or so I thought. I acted as a king, Legolas, but the father in me bled with every lash you took on your back."

Shoulders shaking by silent sobs, Legolas staggered further away. He sagged heavily against a marble pillar, a hand covering his mouth.

"I deeply wish the flogging never happened. I wish I had not hurt you so. But it's not possible to change the past and it pains me still each time I remember. You have heard this before, my son, but again I ask your forgiveness. I was wrong to doubt you."

When Legolas refused to reply, Thranduil sighed regretfully, "After we found out that you were innocent, that Arulin was just putting up an act, it was already too late. In mere days, she had gained control of this kingdom. Her power was everywhere."

"But why…?" Legolas finally spoke, but had to clear his throat before continuing. "Why was she that way? What did she intend to do?"

"Her first intention was to be Kel's bride, so that she had the means to slowly and silently take control of all of us. What she truly wanted, though, was revenge for her mother's death. She also came for the throne."

Thranduil told Legolas about Arulin's real mother, an evil witch who was married to Tamascus—Thranduil's great uncle. They both had died in horrified deaths when Arulin was a mere child.

"Tamascus?" Legolas blinked in surprise. "The elf who betrayed us to the Dark Forces during the Great War, causing the demise of my grandfather and your brothers?"

"None other." Thranduil nodded and went to stand next to his son. "Arulin believed that the throne of Mirkwood belonged to her through her father, so she came here to claim it back. Besides that, she wanted to punish us for burning her mother at the stake. That was why she wanted to marry Kel, become a member of the royal family, spread her influence, and assault us from within when we least expected it. Your discovering her inner darkness speeded up her entire plan, however. So she had to get rid of you first."

Thranduil went on to explain how Keldarion also began to have doubts about his future wife. The elder prince had gotten a look at Arulin's hideous reflection in a mirror—at Legolas' suggestion—and finally knew what the she-elf was truly made of.

"She was a wicked witch," the king angrily said, "Just like her mother. She was so powerful she was capable of ordering around a huge battalion of orcs. She even put the people of Gamadris under her evil spell, including her foster parents."

Somehow, Legolas was able to send his father a droll look. "Truthfully, father, your matchmaking totally sucks!"

Thranduil had to chuckle at that. "So says your brother. Arulin was the last maiden I sought for him. Luckily, he ended up with lovely Aislinn, and not another crazy she-elf."

Wiping his face dry, Legolas asked next, "How did Arulin have anything to do with the lost of my healing ability?"

Sighing, Thranduil gently patted his son's shoulder. "She wanted to hurt me where it hurt the most—by watching her giving you even more hurt."

He tugged his son back to their seats. Assured that Legolas would stay put this time, Thranduil carried on, "With the help of her orcs, the entire realm was quickly put under siege. We were taken captives and thrown into the dungeons. On top of that, she made sure that our kingdom would never be the same again."

Legolas cocked his head to one side when his father stopped talking. The king looked a bit unsteady, as if dreading what he was about to say next.

"What did she do, father?"

At the quiet sound of Legolas' voice, Thranduil took a deep breath and braced himself for what was to come. "She used a blade—my own dagger—and cut open the back of your neck. And then she dug out the stone of _manya_. That was how the gift was taken from you. Forever."

Legolas blanched. He gave his father a look of utter horror, his eyes welling with tears once more. "The…the stone? She took out the _stone_?"

Before his father could respond, he reached with both hands to feel up his nape. It felt smooth, no sign of the discreet little bump which was supposed to be there.

"Oh…my…lord…" Legolas lowered his arms, shaking his head. "No. _No_…"

"Legolas, listen to me." Thranduil rose and went to sit on the arm of Legolas' chair, pulling his trembling son against his side. "I know it hurts you terribly now, as it had hurt you right then, but you managed to overcome the pain. You resumed your life afterwards."

Legolas was staring at his hands as if he hadn't heard his father. "It is true, then. I'm not a _manyan_ anymore. Ai, Elbereth, it is all true! I thought…I thought it was only temporary, that I would regain my gift after I've recovered my memory. But it's fully gone. All gone…"

Burying his face in his hands, Legolas broke into sobs. His father sat with him, rubbing his back with tender soothing motions.

Thranduil stared out the window, his eyes also wet. For a long time, there was no other sound except for his son's crying. Oh, how he wished that Arulin was still alive so that he could murder the evil witch, again and again, for creating all this pain!

Gradually, Legolas' sobs died down. Brushing a few strands of hair from his son's drawn face, Thranduil continued from where he had left off, "Gandalf, Elrond and his sons came to our rescue not long after. They helped us defeat Arulin and her army. Your brother killed her with his own hands, but not before she managed to slit your throat open."

Legolas did not respond, but the king knew his son was listening.

"You were near death. We've already lost hope, thought you were going to die right in front of our eyes, when Elrond suddenly suggested that we use the _manyan_ stone to heal you back to health."

Thranduil went on to explain how they had soaked the stone in a bowl of water, and then used the water to wash Legolas' wound. "You became awake soon after that, as healthy as can be. Even outside of you, the stone still worked magic."

"Then why didn't you put the stone back in?" Legolas asked, a hint of accusation evident in his voice.

"My son, it was not that simple," Thranduil placated. "Once removed, a _manyan_ stone would not recognize your blood again. Putting it back into you is like attaching a fallen leaf back to a tree. It's pointless. The leaf would die no matter what. And that's exactly what happened to the stone."

Legolas was incredulous. "The stone _died_? How can that be possible?"

"While inside you, the stone fed on your blood and energy. Outside, it was on its own. Sooner or later, its power diminished. We had no other choice but to dispose of the stone before it destroyed you completely."

"Destroyed me?"

"The stone was killing you, Legolas. After its power faded off, it sucked out your inner energy, feasting on your soul. We had to take it far away from you lest it did you more harm."

"What did you do with it?"

"We…uh…we cast it into the sea."

Legolas gave his father a hard stare, sensing that there was more that the elder elf was not telling him.

Either Thranduil was daft, or he chose to ignore his son's telling looks. "Trust me, Legolas, everything will turn out fine."

"Will it?"

"Yes. I swear on this." Patting Legolas on the shoulder, Thranduil stood. "Come along, my son. I'm sure lunch is already prepared in the dining hall."

"You go on ahead, father. I wish to sit here for a while," Legolas declined, looking the other way. He was truly disappointed, fully convinced that his father deliberately kept certain information from him.

_Who went to the sea to discard the stone?_

_Did that person return, unharmed?_

_And why is father so anxious to end this talk all of a sudden?_

_What is he afraid of?_

_Blast it, what else is he hiding from me!_

Thranduil then tried to cajole, "But, Legolas, you must be famished. You barely touched your breakfast this morning…"

"_Please_, father. Please leave me be," Legolas heartily implored, "I just…I just want to be by myself, all right? I need some time alone. That's all I ask."

Saddened by his son's distress, Thranduil could only sigh in resignation. "Very well, Legolas. As you wish."

Before leaving, the king leaned down and kissed the top of his son's bent head. Legolas just sat still in the chair, looking so frail and small, his eyes distant and filled with anguish.

At the door, Thranduil paused to say, "I'm always here for you, my son. Remember that."

And then he was gone.

Legolas raised his head, staring at the closed door.

_If only you would be fully honest with me._

Fresh tears spilled over, and Legolas brushed them away angrily.

_Stop it, you fool! Enough blubbering like a babe. Too many questions but no answers. So find them! Now. _

Clinging to that purpose, he rose to his feet and looked around him. The king's study was huge, almost taking half of the palace ground floor. Each wall was filled with floor-to-ceiling bookcase, fully stocked with journals, scriptures and ancient tomes. There were books on all kinds of topic and genre—from philosophy to astronomy, engineering and warfare, poetry and tales, mathematics and history.

_Especially_ history.

He wanted answers? Well, he didn't need to go far.

He was literally surrounded by them.

**TBC… **

**p/s : Guys, none of your plans works. My boss is still alive! How can that be? I thought you were all professionals? **

**On second thought, don't kill him just yet. Wait until he has signed the check for our annual bonus, first! Yippee! **


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello, guys! **

**Yesterday, 31st of August, was our nation's biggest holiday. It was Malaysia's 49th Independence Day!**

**Merdeka! Merdeka! Merdeka!**

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It was near dusk when someone else entered the study.

Legolas, who sat quietly by a corner in the growing darkness, snapped out of his deep musing and managed a half smile. "Aragorn."

The man nodded in acknowledgement as he came closer. "Legolas."

"What, my father sent you to check on me?"

"No. Gimli did." Aragorn chuckled. "The dwarf wants me to make sure that you are all right."

"Truly? That's kind of him."

"Actually, he is a lot more concerned about the books in here."

Legolas frowned. "Why the books?"

"Gimli said he still hasn't finished reading the '_Romantic Tales from Greenwood_'. He's afraid that you have gone into a tantrum and ransacked this place, throwing everything out the window—including that favorite book of his."

Rolling his eyes, the elf muttered, "Soft dwarf."

He rose, and went to replace the journal he had been reading onto the king's table. "I got a feeling you have other reasons for being here."

"Yes, that's true."

Aragorn walked to the nearest bookcase and randomly picked out a book from among the thousands. His eyes bulged when he saw the title—'_The Art of Sexual Intercourse'—_and quickly put it back into place, wondering at Thranduil's choice of reading material.

"You skipped lunch," he hastily stated, facing the elf once more. "And you didn't appear for afternoon tea. Your family is getting a mite worried, Legolas. You are still recovering from a grave injury, and they think you are not taking a really good care of your health."

Smiling, Legolas crossed his arms and lean a hip against the table. "They need not worry. No one ever dies from not eating the entire day."

"If you say so," Aragorn responded. He tried not to squirm when the elf boldly stared at him, up and down.

"Why look at me so?" the man asked, slightly annoyed by Legolas' apparent arrogance.

That caused Legolas to laugh. "Why is it wrong for me to stare at you when thousands of other people are free to do the same thing?"

Aragorn blinked. "What?"

"Look, I only want to know if you are what they say you are," Legolas said, his eyes filled with warmth, "I want to assure myself that you fit the role as Arwen's husband."

"Oh, please. We are back to that topic again?" The man shook his head. "You've said so yourself. Arwen's father, brothers or even Keldarion would have killed me if I didn't live up to anyone's standard."

"Even when you are the King of Gondor?"

Stunned, Aragorn couldn't say a word for several moments. He then happened to glance at a heavy book placed on the table the elf was leaning. '_Complete_ _History of the Third Age_' was embossed on both its front and spine in gold lettering.

"Yes. Even that," the man belatedly answered when he found his voice. "So, you've done your research."

"Well, I didn't spend my entire time in here on beauty sleep," Legolas responded with a shrug. He pushed off the table and went to sit in a chair, gesturing Aragorn to follow suit.

After the man was seated, Legolas continued, "After all that reading, I still find it hard to believe that so many things have changed in just a century, and so many transformations have been made all across Middle-earth. It seemed like I was reading the history of a different universe in which I took no part in. When I saw my own name on the pages, it's like the name of another stranger to me."

With a tired sigh, Legolas raked a hand through his long golden hair. "Ai, it's very frustrating when you can't even remember a thing."

"I understand how you feel," Aragorn said, sympathetically. "But don't take it too hard, Legolas. You might not remember any of it now but, sooner or later, your memory will return."

The elf sent the man a doubtful glance. "What makes you so sure?"

Aragorn had to smile at this. "Legolas, I've known you since I was a young boy, enough to say that you have the head of a rock and the stubbornness of a mule. You will get your way, no matter what it takes."

For several long moments, elf and man exchanged meaningful gazes in silence. As they conveyed with each other through their eyes, everything around them was left forgotten. Time seemed to stand still; the only sound in the room was their breathing.

"I grew up with the knowledge that Gondor has no king," Legolas said, breaking the silence. "And now its king is sitting right here in front of me. Unbelievable."

"Believe it. Besides, you are one of those people who strived to put me where I am," said Aragorn, "Without you, I would have lost my life several times over."

"So all I read is true? The War of The Ring, the fall of Sauron, the resurrection of Gondor—everything?"

"They are surely not the works of fiction or they wouldn't make it into that history book. You know how particular your father is about accuracy and such."

"It also said that I had a dwarf sharing my mount as we traveled far during the quest. That is true also?"

At Aragorn's nod, the elf groaned. "Lord, what was I thinking?"

Aragorn laughed. "I can still recall how you and Gimli bickered each day during the entire journey. It always drove me crazy, making me wish for some socks to stuff my ears with."

"Why didn't we just leave him behind then?"

"Oh, we tried," the man said, a glimmer of humor in his eyes, "Trust me, my friend, we _tried_."

Legolas was amused. "The dwarf didn't fare well when we had to go through the Paths of the Dead, did he?"

"He nearly wet his pants," Aragorn said, grinning. "But I'm sure no book will ever mention _that_!"

That caused them to laugh. Aragorn was deeply elated. It was nice for him to hear his friend's genuine laughter again. He only hoped that it would not be the last.

Sobering, Legolas threw his gaze out the window. He was beginning to like this man in front of him, but why did Aragorn's presence make him a little uneasy?

"I've read as much as I could," the elf said, "But something is still missing. Take my father's journals, for example. He skipped several years at certain points, which is extremely strange. He hardly misses a day to write, let alone a _year_. He once told me that his journals are the voice to his heart. So what was it that was so terrible he couldn't put in writing?"

Aragorn felt bad, for he knew exactly what it was. As a father, he was convinced that no loving fathers would have the heart or the will to inscribe on how their sons were taken captive by the enemies and then mercilessly violated, body and soul.

Thranduil was a strong, formidable king. But when his sons were harmed, like any other parents, he took every mean possible to protect them even more—even if he had to hide the facts and bury the truth.

"Don't dwell on it too much," Aragorn urged. "I'm sure your father has his own reasons for skipping the journal entries."

Legolas gave the man a hard stare. "You know something that I don't?"

Aragorn gulped with difficulty, taken by surprise from the accusation in his friend's voice.

"I know some things that I _wish_ I don't," the man quietly replied, keeping his gaze steady. "Please don't ask me what they are, Legolas. It is not my place to tell you."

The elf's sharp glare was unwavering. "From what I've read, they named you as my best friend. You even gave me Ithilien to govern."

"That is true."

"Then why keep secrets from me?"

"It's not secrets that I keep, but guilt." Aragorn braved himself to reach across and grip Legolas' arm. "I truly want you to remember me, but I'm afraid your memory of me would give you great distress, for I've caused you lots of pain throughout the long years of our friendship. I can't bear to see you look at me with hatred in your eyes."

Legolas glanced down at Aragorn's hand on his arm. He made a move to brush it off when something flashed in his mind. Grabbing Aragorn's wrist, he turned it over and stared at the long scar in the middle of the man's palm.

"How did you get this?"

A bit startled, Aragorn was late to reply, "Err…I did that myself—with a knife."

"But _why_?" Clearly, Legolas was amazed by the answer.

"I was pledging myself to protect you, and that I would gladly bleed for you."

Legolas was struck speechless as Aragorn continued to say, "We became brothers that day. Sworn brothers. You hold your oath better than I hold mine, unfortunately. But our bond remains strong, Legolas. Not as strong as yours with Kel, but it has carried us through many hardships and difficulties. You watched my back while I watched yours."

Looking dazed, Legolas got to his feet and walked slowly away. He stopped in front of the unlit hearth, staring into the dark small cavern. When he looked down at his own palms, he found the skin soft and smooth. That was to be understood. Elves carried no scars.

"When I met you this morning, I had a feeling that you played a significant part in my life," Legolas softly said, turning around. "I just didn't know how significant it was until now."

Aragorn also stood. He came approaching, trying not to appear too overwhelmed by the elf's admission. "Legolas, it is you who plays the significant part in _my_ life. Without you, I won't even be here."

Smiling slightly, Legolas gave the man's shoulder a brief squeeze before he headed towards the door.

"Wh…where are you going, Legolas?"

The elf prince paused. "I'm going to go clear my head."

Perplexed, Aragorn was left staring even after his friend was already gone. _Did I say something wrong?_

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One of Legolas' favorite places for solace was the stream, located right outside the palace walls. And that was where he headed to after leaving his father's study.

He looked up in wonder as he exited the rear gate. The surrounding high wall was not there one hundred twenty years ago. It had been built not long after Arulin's invasion, he had discovered through his father's journals.

_A little too late for that_, he mused.

Even before he saw it, the blissful sound of the stream was plain to his ears. And the sight of it never ceased to give him comfort. Flowing downstream in lazy current, its surface shone with scarlet diamonds under the setting sun. Its scent was almost heady, a soothing balm to Legolas' troubled mind. It seemed like a long time since he had felt so much ease. No worries, no fear. Everything was just nice—a perfect setting for a swim.

He bent down to unlace his boots, shucking them off his feet hurriedly. Next, his fingers worked fast at the catches of his tunic. After dumping his clothes on the ground, he took off at a trot and dived gracefully into the water.

When he broke to surface a full minute afterwards, his head felt noticeably lighter. Oh, he still had many things floating about in his mind. But the dip in the stream must have washed off most of the mess, leaving only a few details that needed to be sorted out. He decided to tackle them later, and started to swim across towards the other bank.

He did that several times more, swimming back and forth, stroke after powerful stroke. When he finally climbed ashore, he was breathless and feeling a bit lightheaded. That was why he was not aware of Keldarion's presence until the elder elf spoke up.

"Feel better now?"

Legolas jumped in surprise. He quickly looked up and scowled with annoyance. His brother was leaning against a tree, watching his every move.

"I felt a lot better—until _you _arrived."

Chuckling, Keldarion came nearer. "Seriously, brat. How are you feeling?"

Legolas shrugged. He gathered his wet hair to wring it out. "Like I said, I've been better."

Seeing the saddened looks on his brother's face, he smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Kel. I may be a little off in the head right now, but I won't start screaming and tearing at my hair like a madman."

"_That_ I'm not worried because you scream and tear at your hair almost every day," Keldarion quipped. "I'm just concerned about what you've just learned. You were in father's study for a very long time."

Stifling a sigh, Legolas turned away and bent to pick his tunic off the ground. He used it to dry off his torso. "That is true. I've learned quite a bit on what had happened within the last century. And most of them are too hard for me to swallow."

Keldarion eyed his brother warily. "Such as?"

"Well, for instance, I discovered who went to the sea to cast out the _manyan_ stone."

"You did?" Keldarion stared at his feet. "Hmm. I wonder who that stupid idiot was."

"That stupid idiot," Legolas said with a glare, "was _you_."

"Oh. Right. That was me." Smiling sheepishly, Keldarion slapped his forehead. "Sorry. I almost forgot."

Legolas didn't smile back. "You knew how dangerous it was, Kel. You knew there was the risk of sea-longing affliction and yet you still went?"

Sighing, Keldarion reached out to grasp his brother's shoulder. "I went to the sea not only because I wanted to, but I _had_ to. There was no other choice. You were near death, Legolas. The stone was killing you. Except for me, it burned everyone who even dared to touch it."

"But you've made such a huge sacrifice." Legolas was shaking his head, his eyes welling with tears. "The sea-longing…it almost destroyed you."

"Not just me, but also my ship's crew." Keldarion grimly nodded.

"Father described in his journal on how you returned to Mirkwood a different person. And then, when the affliction got worse, you and the affected crew sailed for Valinor," Legolas stated, holding tightly to his brother's sleeve as if he was afraid Keldarion would leave him again. "Only that you never got there."

"We didn't, no. We were attacked by the Corsairs. Those who were still alive were taken captive," Keldarion said with a hard glint in his eyes. Even after all these years, he still had trouble to recount that darkest period of his life. He forced a smile to his lips and continued, "That was how I met Aislinn. She helped me escape."

Legolas looked closely at his brother. "I have a feeling that there is more to this story."

"There is," Keldarion agreed, and quickly avoided Legolas' searching gaze. "But it serves us no purpose talking about it. What's past is past. Leave it be."

They didn't speak for quite a long moment. Keldarion kept staring at the running water, while Legolas never took his eyes away from his brother. The silence was so intense it was deafening.

"I want to remember it all, Kel. I really do," Legolas said at last, his voice so soft it was barely audible.

Keldarion turned around then. "I know, brother. And I'm sure you will. Just give it time."

"That's what everyone keeps telling me," Legolas commented with a long face. "But this waiting is driving me nuts!"

Laughing, Keldarion patted his brother's back. "Easy, brother. No need to get all riled up."

"Easy for you to say. You are not the one with amnesia," Legolas complained. "I wish there's some way I could recover my lost memory."

"How about knocking your head against something hard? That might work," Keldarion said, only half joking. "Remember what happened to Elrohir that one summer? He lost his memory after he hit his head falling off that cliff, but regained it all when someone slammed a cudgel to his temple. Such a strange thing…uh…Legolas? Where are you going?"

Legolas didn't reply as he walked straight for a tree. With no hesitation, he threw back his head and yanked it forward, bashing it hard against the tree trunk—again and again and again.

Keldarion was so horrified he didn't remember running to his brother, yelling at the top of his lungs, "LEGOLAS, STOP! WHAT THE BLAZES ARE YOU DOING?"

He grabbed his younger brother around the chest and pulled him away from the tree. Legolas followed without struggle, slumping wearily in Keldarion's arms.

"Why, pray tell, did you do that?" Keldarion was dismayed to see the blood trickling off Legolas' forehead, down towards the bridge of his nose.

"I want to remember."

"By smashing your head against a tree?" The elder elf was growing angry. "Have you lost your bloody mind!"

"Technically—yes, I _have_ lost my bloody mind!" Legolas shot back, shoving off his brother. "I've forgotten a full century, remember? Maybe I'll gain my memory back if I give my brain some serious thumping."

"Oh, Legolas. This is not the way," Keldarion sadly said.

"But you just told me to go knock my head."

"No, I didn't!"

"Did _to_! You also said it might work to recover my memories."

"But I never said…" Keldarion halted and rolled his eyes. "Fine. I said that. But I never meant for you to actually go and smash your head into a bloody pulp. Come here. Let me have a look at it."

He frowned when he inspected his brother's wound. "It's not too deep, thank the stars. You are lucky you have a dumb rock for a head."

"Wow. What a compliment." Legolas was grimacing. "It hurts, you know."

"I know it hurts. And whose fault was that?" Keldarion snapped. But seeing his brother's forlorn expression, his face softened. "All right, it's _my_ fault. I shouldn't have planted that idea in your head in the first place. My mistake."

"But I still hope it would work. I _want_ to remember."

"Legolas, look at me." Keldarion nudged his brother's chin. "I love you, father loves you, your wife loves you, and your sons love you. Everyone does. That is all you need to remember for now."

Legolas blinked against his tears, biting his lower lip to keep himself from crying. "That I never forget. But you know what hurts me the most, Kel?"

"What? Tell me."

"I forgot how to heal." Legolas looked down at his hands. "I can't remember the taste of _manyan_ magic. My touch is empty. I feel nothing."

Keldarion swallowed a painful lump in his throat. "I'm sorry, Legolas. That is all I can say. I'm really sorry."

"The gift is gone. My hands are useless now."

"Don't say that," Keldarion protested. He took his brother's hands and raised them to eye level.

"See these? These are the hands of a father, who rocks his twin boys to sleep. These are the hands of a husband, who has a lovely wife to please. These are the hands of a warrior, who wields deadly blades and shoots straight arrows. These are the hands of a son, who once dyed his father's hair red with henna juice."

The last bit caused both brothers to grin.

"And these are the hands of my brother," Keldarion added, smiling, "Who has saved my life countless of times, who wrestles with me, creates wonderful paintings for me, and sending me on my ass once after punching me in the face."

"What?" Legolas' mouth dropped open. "I _punched_ you?"

"That's right."

"That's preposterous! I would never do that."

"Trust me, brother. You actually did."

"And you _let_ me?"

Keldarion threw back his head and laughed. "That's because I hit you first!"

The two brothers roared with laughter, until Legolas suddenly broke into a wince, holding his head. "Ow. My head hurts. Seriously."

Looking overly concerned, Keldarion shed his outer tunic and draped it around his brother's naked shoulders. "Come. Let's go home. We need to treat that cut."

"I owe some people an apology—my wife, especially," Legolas said, gathering the warm garment closer to his body.

"I know, brat." After collecting his brother's boots, Keldarion led the way back to the palace. "But I'm sure she has already forgiven you."

Keldarion had indeed spoken the truth, because Narasene welcomed her husband with a smile and opened arms when they arrived at Legolas' chamber.

"Oh, my love, I have been so worried. I…" She gasped out loud when she saw the blood on his face. "Good gracious! What happened to you?"

"I…uh…" Legolas grew sheepish. "I walked into a tree."

"It's true. He walked blindly into a tree," Keldarion confirmed it, fighting hard to keep a straight face.

Narasene turned to him with a glare. "You were supposed to keep your eye on him."

Startled, Keldarion took a step back. "Hey, it's not my fault if he used his nose instead of his eyes to see things."

Legolas groaned. Leaving them to their bickering, he staggered off and plopped onto his bed.

"What were you doing then?" Narasene kept on chastising Keldarion, banging lockers left and right as she searched for clean towels. "You should have stopped him in time before he hurt himself like that."

"Trust me, lady. I _tried_."

"Well, you didn't try hard enough."

"Oh? So this is all my fault?"

"Yes!"

Sighing, Legolas wearily turned his head and threw his gaze out the window, and immediately got back to his feet when he noticed something.

"Look, there's an eagle on the balcony."

"But I had to…Huh? What eagle?" Keldarion halted in mid-sentence, frowning at his brother in confusion. His eyes then widened with dismay when recognition set in. "Oh, crap."

As Legolas watched with avid interest, the eagle flew in to land at his feet. Then the beautiful bird steadily changed form, growing larger and larger, its wings and feather magically disappearing. Seconds later, a tall golden-haired man had taken the eagle's place.

He was grinning at the lack-jawed elf.

"Hello, Legolas. Good to see you back on your feet."

Legolas blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice.

"Great Lord," he stupidly mumbled, and fell over in a dead faint.

**TBC…**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello, hello! We meet again. I'm so sorry for the long delay. I have been so busy the last few months, working myself to death!**

**Anyway, here's the latest chapter.**

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The sound of bickering pulled Legolas back to consciousness.

"You idiot. Look what you've done!"

"What exactly did I do?"

"You showed him your ugly face."

"Who says I'm ugly? And I've been showing my face around for years. So why can't I show it now?"

"Because he has forgotten all about you, you nitwit! See? You've scared the stuffing out of him."

"Why didn't you warn me?"

"I _might_ have if you had the decency to inform us of your flight routine. You come and go as you please. What do you think this place is? Your hibernating nest?"

Legolas stifled a groan, wishing that oblivion would return and claim him once more. The squabbling happily resumed around him as he was poked and prodded without mercy.

"What's the matter with him? How did he get that cut on his head?"

"He walked into a tree," Keldarion grouchily responded.

"You're kidding. Didn't he see the tree?"

"He did. He was just too stupid to realize what it was until he banged into it."

The other person chuckled and suggested that they should carry Legolas off to bed.

"Careful, _draq_! Mind his head," Keldarion snapped as, together, they lifted him off the floor.

"I _am_ careful! Stop being such a priggish, over-bearing, pompous son of a…"

"Gallard," Narasene interrupted, speaking for the very first time in that sweet voice of hers.

"Yes, my lady?"

"Be quiet."

That shut them both up. Still, Legolas refused to open his eyes, even after he was fully laid on his back. His wife was giving orders left and right, demanding a basin of water and some clean towels and bandages. Keldarion and Gallard—whoever that was—was heard scampering away to do her biddings.

The mattress dipped slightly near his hip a moment before Narasene spoke softly to him, "You can open your eyes now, my lord husband."

Legolas cautiously opened one eye and found her smiling down at him. He gave her a weak grin. "Hi, Nara."

"Hi, yourself."

"Geez, lady. How did you know I'm awake?"

"You were frowning, my dear. That's a total giveaway," she replied, leaning down to kiss his lips. "Does your head still hurt?"

"Immensely. And I think I've gone mad. I thought I just saw an eagle change into a man."

Narasene's gaze didn't waver. "I know. We saw it too."

"But…but that's…that's impossible! It's ridiculous. It's…"

"It's a fact, you numbskull," Gallard stated as he came near, carrying a water basin in his arms. "Call me ridiculous again and I'll dump this blasted thing atop your head."

Sitting upright, Legolas glared in response. He eyed Gallard up and down, noticing with disdain that the stranger was wearing soft buckskin leggings and nothing else, his muscled-toned torso in full view.

"My wife is present," Legolas growled, "So go cloth yourself or I'll make you _eat_ that blasted thing."

"Why, you jealous?" Gallard snorted. "As if _my_ wife never saw _you_ without your…"

Keldarion quickly clapped the towels over Gallard's mouth, effectively cutting off the stranger's next words "Enough, big bird. Let me handle this."

Turning to his younger brother, he added, "Legolas, let me introduce you to Gallard, your very old friend."

Legolas wasn't easily convinced. "Is he really? How and when did I meet him?"

"It's a long story. We can talk about that later."

"But what exactly is he? A bird or a man?"

"A mixture of those two, I believe, which makes him a very interesting kind of hybrid that is rare to find in any part of this land. He…"

"I can speak for myself, thank you very much!" Gallard snapped as he jerked free of Keldarion's hold. Looking directly at Legolas, he said, "I'm a _draq_."

"A _draq_." Legolas didn't look impressed. "What the heck is that?"

Gallard dumped the water basin onto the bedside table. "I'm a shape-shifting eagle, you idiot. Can't you even remember that?"

Reddening with anger, Legolas hissed through gritted teeth, "Obviously, I can _not_."

The _draq_ closely regarded the ailing elf before he quietly said, "Yes, I can see that. Forgive me Legolas, if I upset you. And I didn't mean to give you such a fright just now, when I was shape-shifting."

Legolas had to smile. "I wasn't frightened exactly, but you did take me by surprise."

Chuckling, Gallard moved over to perch on the bed. Keldarion took a seat in one of the nearby chairs after handing over the towels to Narasene, who then turned to her husband to give him the delayed medical treatment.

"I've only just received the missive your father had sent about you getting hurt," Gallard said apologetically, as Narasene cleaned the cut on Legolas' forehead. "I was away when it arrived, so when I got back to Tasqamaran it was already two weeks late. I flew here the fastest I could."

Legolas looked puzzled. "Tasqamaran?"

"That's where I live. Tasqamaran Keep, built on an island in the Western Sea fully inhibited by _draqs_. And also some _shraqs_, from my wife's family."

"Wait. Back up, please." Legolas was completely agog now. "_Tasqamaran_? Truly? But I thought it was just a myth, something that we found only in children's bedtime stories."

Gallard gave him a droll look. "Do I look like a myth to you?"

"No. You just look like someone who doesn't know what a shirt is."

Gallard rolled his eyes while Keldarion burst out laughing. Narasene smacked her husband across the chest with a damp towel.

"Enough of that nonsense, my dear," she said reprovingly. "Besides, you are not wearing a shirt yourself."

"That's different. I'm your husband."

Narasene sniffed haughtily, her annoyance with him plain on her face even though she refused to say more on the matter.

Amused, Gallard cleared his throat with a grin. "Well…err…Anyway, here I am. I thought I would see you with my own eyes to assure myself you're all right. Now that I know you've lost your memory, maybe I can help you recover it all."

Legolas' face brightened. "You are willing to help me?"

Gallard shrugged. "Of course. It wouldn't be too hard, would it? A knock or two to your head and you will be back to normal…_Aww_!"

Keldarion had just cuffed _him_ upside the head.

"Obviously it wouldn't work because your own little brain is still malfunctioning," the elder elf told the scowling _draq_. "Stop rubbing your head and come with me. Our father must see you."

"Why?"

"Because he is the king of this realm as you are to your island. It's proper that he is officially informed of your arrival. My lord," Keldarion added the last bit as an afterthought.

Gallard stood, grumbling under his breath, "It was mush easier when I was only known as Hawkeye."

"That time has past so stop complaining. Now come along."

"I'm coming, I'm coming." To Legolas, Gallard said, "We will talk later, my friend."

Legolas feebly nodded. "Sure, my lord."

"Don't call me that. Makes me feel old," Gallard replied with a grimace.

"Right. And you are…what? Only three hundred years of age?" Keldarion sarcastically pointed out. "Come on, _draq_. Let's go. Oh, wait."

He paused at Legolas' dresser and took out a wonderfully tailored dark brown tunic. He tossed it to Gallard. "Here, put it on. Don't want _my_ wife to see you half naked."

"Hey! That's my…" Legolas started to protest but quickly ceased at his wife's telling glare. "Uh…Go ahead. Take it. Valar save the ladies' virtue."

With a jaunty wave, Gallard left the room after Keldarion.

The moment the door was shut close with a soft click, Legolas turned to his wife and whined, "But that's my favorite shirt! You made it for me,"

Narasene immediately went still. She gazed deeply into his eyes, searching and probing. "You…you remember that?"

"Of course, but how can I forget? You spent three nights straight driving me crazy up the wall, embroidering those silly little leaves on the shirtsleeves instead of getting into bed with me. I was so vexed I nearly tear the tunic out of your hands and toss it into the flames, but then you jammed the entire thing into my mouth to stop my ranting and we…Oh."

Legolas blinked when he realized what he was saying. "_Oh_."

Grinning crookedly at his wife, he added, "I do remember what you did _next_, my dearest. Sharp and clear."

"You randy goat, you." Narasene blushed. She stroked his cheek lovingly. "Is that all you can remember? Can't you remember anything else?"

Legolas' face fell. "No, I'm sorry. I guess my memory just come in flashes for now. Maybe it will get better tomorrow?"

She smiled reassuringly. "I hope so. Tomorrow you might remember something else, maybe more."

"I can't wait."

Narasene finished up her treatment and started to put away her medical supplies. "There. You're all patched up, as good as new. Just don't let that cut get wet for a couple of days, all right? I'll put on more salve if it gets too dry, though. And stay away from any tree."

He grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

She tugged at the coverlet, covering him to his waist. "Now get some sleep. Let your body heal."

"But it's too early. The night is still young," Legolas protested, grabbing her arm before she could leave.

"You are not well, Legolas. You need your rest…oh!" Narasene tumbled into bed next to him after he gave her hand a quick yank. "Really, my lord…"

"Hush." He pressed a finger against her lips, his silver eyes darkening with desire. Tenderly, he tucked a lock of hair around her left ear. "Where did you say our sons were? In the nursery?"

"Hmm." She moaned with pleasure as he snuggled closer and kissed her throat.

"We will go and get them, but later. For now, I want you alone for myself."

"But I need to go downstairs. The dinner, our guests…"

"They can survive without you." His hands were busy at the bodice of her gown. "But, help me lady, for _I_ can't."

Giggling, she buried her hands in his hair and pulled his head down for a long, lingering kiss.

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Gallard had finished buttoning up his tunic and was now staring askance at Keldarion. "You didn't whisk me out of Legolas' chamber simply to take me to your father."

"You are right. I had other reason for that," the elf solemnly replied. "I need to tell you more of Legolas' condition before you say something you shouldn't."

The _draq_ raised one eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Keldarion halted. "Look, Gallard, Legolas has forgotten everything—starting from the day that I was supposed to wed Arulin of Garmadris."

Gallard's eyes narrowed. "Everything?"

"Yes." Keldarion nodded. "_Every_thing."

Frowning, the _draq_ didn't spoke for a full minute as he quietly digested the information. "That's not good. Not good at all."

"I have to agree with you on that." Keldarion sighed, running a weary hand through his hair. "Stubborn as he is, Legolas wants to recall everything at once. He sequestered himself in the king's study the entire day, looking through the history books."

"Now _that_ is bad," Gallard remarked with a shake of his head. "That's the most unfortunate way to find out about those terrible things that happened to him all these years."

"Actually, he found out more about the War of the Ring and the fall of Sauron that way. He also learned that he helped Aragorn reclaim the throne of Gondor. Actually, it was our father who told him about how he lost his _manyan_ touch."

"How did your brother take it, then?"

"Terribly. Father told me afterwards that he had never seen Legolas cry like that for over a decade."

Again, Gallard shook his head. "Poor, Legolas. To go through all that pain once more."

Keldarion was biting his lips, looking deeply troubled. "He still doesn't know about one other thing."

"What other thing?"

Before answering, Keldarion looked to the left and right, seeking signs for any eavesdropper. The hallway was empty except for them both. Even then, his voice came out low under his breath, "He doesn't remember Jongos."

Gallard didn't seem to understand at first, but then his eyes widened. "Lord almighty. If he finds that out, he will break!"

"My sentiments exactly. So he must _not_ find out."

"What do you intend to do? Keep that knowledge from him?

Keldarion gave a determined nod. "Yes."

"But for how long? He will eventually remember everything, sooner or later."

"Or he might not."

"Is that what you really want?"

It was not an easy question to answer. Keldarion looked away, trying to hide the truth in his eyes. "If it would spare him great pain, then he is better as he is. He is better not knowing."

He turned back to the _draq_. "Promise me that you will keep this secret?"

Gallard didn't take time to contemplate. "I promise. But you know what will happen if he does remember?"

"History might repeat itself," Keldarion said forlornly. "He will surely kill someone, most probably himself."

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There was a mirror. He saw his face, but it was all wrong. He was pale, way too pale. And there was blood. Lots of blood. Tiny cuts everywhere.

He looked down. There was a small knife in his bloodied hand. He was stabbing at his other wrist, again and again. Strangely, though, he didn't feel any pain. Only emptiness.

There was the sound of an eagle's cry. He turned to look and there it was, perching atop his dresser. A sling was wrapped around its left wing. It was such comical sight he wanted to laugh, but he couldn't. He didn't know how.

The door to the dresser suddenly burst open and several men came out. They surrounded him, evil sneers on their faces. He cringed, whimpering and trembling with fear. The men laughed hysterically, shrill and long. The men grabbed him and held him down.

He screamed and screamed and screamed.

Legolas snapped awake, jerking upright in the bed. His heart was beating wildly and his breathing came in short, quick gasps. His entire body was slick with sweat. His cheeks were damp. Tears still ran down his face.

Confused and bewildered, Legolas wiped his face and looked around him. He was alone. His wife might have gone to the nursery to check on the twins while he slept. He guiltily remembered that he had promised to collect them himself.

Willing for his heartbeat to calm down, he lay back down. He stared at the ceiling, wondering at the eagle he had seen in his dreams. It had looked just like Gallard in his eagle form.

What of the men? Who were they?

And why did he still feel this cold-numbing fear deep in his bones?

**TBC…**


	10. Chapter 10

It drizzled heavily the next morning.

Stirring awake, Legolas rolled onto his back and stretched languidly. The rhythmic sound of raindrops pattering against the windowpane was so hypnotic it lulled him back to sleep. He blinked rapidly for several moments, forcing himself not to fall under its spell.

Someone kicked him in the ribs then, causing him to grunt. He sat upright, automatically switching on to defensive mode. His ire instantly vanished when he saw the younger of his twin sons, Hadrian, snuggling against his side. The golden-haired elfling had flung one leg over his father's tummy, leaving the other tangling within the sheets.

Chuckling, Legolas gingerly lifted his son's foot off him. He then tugged at the coverlet and covered Hadrian to his dimpled chin.

"That little one has always been a wild sleeper," Narasene softly commented from the other side of the room, rocking a whimpering Linden in her arms. She sounded amused. "Takes it after you, I suppose."

Legolas grinned. After kissing Hadrian on the brow, he got out of bed and went to his wife. "Good morning."

She rose on tiptoe and kissed his lips. "Good morning, my lord. Sleep well?"

"Considerably," he replied, evidently pleased. The strange dream he had had during the night was already far from his mind. Ever since Narasene returned with the sleeping twins in each arm, his heart had been filled with so much warmth he forgot everything else. To have their children nestled close between them in the same bed, to listen to their heartbeats, to smell their sweet breath—it was a wonderful feeling so difficult to explain. Never had he thought being a father would feel this good.

"And what's wrong with _this_ little one?" Legolas asked as he took Linden from her.

"The thunder woke him up. He is scared of the sound," she explained, stroking the child's unruly dark curls. "Another trait you passed on to your sons."

"I'm not scared of thunder," he denied, looking smug. As if on cue, lightning flashed right outside the window, followed by a loud rumbling roar.

Legolas jumped with a yelp. Linden shrieked, his arms clutching tightly around his father's neck.

"Me and my big mouth," Legolas mumbled sheepishly amid Narasene's soft laughter. He rubbed his son's back repeatedly, trying to sooth the wailing child. "There, there, little warrior. Dada will shoo the thunder away."

He cringed when the thunderstorm outside only grew fiercer. "Me and my _bigger_ mouth."

"Still I love you just the same." Narasene kissed him again.

He appreciatively eyed his wife, up and down. Looking fresh from her morning wash, she had already changed into a day dress, her waist-length raven hair brushed till it shone. "You look absolutely lovely."

"Thank you."

"Where are you up to, all dressed up in this early hours?"

"I'm going down to the kitchen to help deal with breakfast."

Legolas made a face. "Don't we have servants for that?"

She smiled. "Of course we do, my dear. I'm just not used to sit around and do nothing."

"You can always return to bed with me," he suggested with a lascivious grin. "I might give you _something_ useful to do."

Blushing prettily, she socked him lightly in the belly. "Is that all you can think about?"

"Among other things." The sound of Legolas' throaty laughter caused their son to finally cease crying.

"You are incorrigible, you know that?"

"Is that all you think of me?" He wiggled his eyebrows in evocative manner, reaching up with his free hand to play with the laces that tied her bodice together. "How about ravishing? Or desirable? Or irresistible? All of the above?"

"You wish, you rake!" Laughing, Narasene skipped away to escape his roaming fingers. At the door, she paused. "Can you handle the boys?"

"Sure I can," he confidently replied. "What is so hard about caring after a pair of little elves?"

Narasene's eyes twinkled with mirth. "Oh, you shall see, my dear husband. You shall see."

After she was gone, he focused his attention at the sniffing elfling in his arms. "So what am I to do with you?"

Linden just blinked in response, his silver eyes large and luminous from his recent tears. Legolas' throat constricted to see the complete trust in the child's gaze.

_He is mine_, he thought, swallowing hard as great love washed over him in tides. _By the Valar, he has always been mine_.

Still staring in wonder at Linden, Legolas walked over to sit in an easy chair, next to the door that led to the balcony. Hadrian chose that moment to stir awake.

"Dada?" The elfling groggily stumbled off the bed and staggered over.

"Come here, son." Legolas pulled Hadrian up onto his lap. The twins grinned at each other in greeting and lay back to snuggle against their father's neck.

Together, they sat there in silence. Through the glass they could see the rain outside. They saw how the trees swayed in the wind and how large puddles formed in the ground. They saw how the rising sun hid behind the black clouds and that no living creatures were out looking for food. Everything looked drab and gray and wet, but the sight didn't give Legolas much bother. His sons were warm in his arms.

That was all that mattered.

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"It wasn't that hard, now was it?" Narasene teased him when they met at the breakfast table later that morning.

Legolas threw her a dirty look. "You should have warned me, at least."

"I should? But I thought you said you could handle them?"

"Indeed, I could. It's just…" he groaned. "Why didn't you tell me they like water so much?"

Narasene laughed. He scowled back at her, which only caused her to laugh all the harder.

"Oh, that means their morning bath didn't go well?" she managed to ask afterwards.

"It went so well I was forced to join them," Legolas sheepishly said. "I couldn't coax the boys to get out of the tub. They were truly enjoying it they ignored me completely. So I thought it was easier if I just scoop them up with my bare hands."

Narasene listened in great amount of amusement as Legolas went on to tell her on how the twins struggled mightily for release, screaming protests at the top of their lungs.

"Hadrian held tight to the edge of the tub, not letting go, while Linden kept jabbing his sharp elbow into my ribs." Legolas chuckled at the memory. "And their wet skin was not helping me any. They were both so slippery I nearly dropped them on their heads! I was about to put them back down when I stepped on a bar of soap and lost my footing. The boys clapped merrily when I stumbled—face down—into the tub."

Her shoulders shaking with mirth, Narasene wasn't able to speak for a full minute. Legolas grinned at her. "Love that, don't you?"

"Oh, I sure do," she said, gazing warmly at the twins who were now crowding their grandfather's chair, regaling him with stories that caused the king to roar with laughter.

"Huh. Look at that. The little traitors are reporting to my father," Legolas said, chagrin. "There's never going to be the end of it."

Everyone had appeared for breakfast that morning, including Gallard the _draq_ and Gimli the dwarf. Both of them were discussing something about warfare as they ate. Aragorn and Arwen had their hands full with their fretful youngest daughter who refused to join her sisters in the nursery. Keldarion and Aislinn sat across Elladan and Elrohir, listening to Thranduil as the king related what Hadrian and Linden had told him just now. Legolas' face reddened as the entire table seemed to shake from the laughter that erupted afterwards.

"Thank you, boys," he ruefully told his sons. "Thank you so very much."

Hadrian and Linden just grinned in response.

All in all, breakfast that morning was a peaceful and pleasant affair—until the twins decided to play tag. They ran around and around the table, chasing each other.

"Boys, get back to your seats," Legolas reprimanded, sending his sons a telling look.

"Oh, leave them be. They are just children," Thranduil remarked, much to the twins' pleasure.

"Leave them be?" Perplexed, Legolas stared at his father. "But you never let me run about like that when I was their age!"

"You are my son. But these are my _grand_sons. There's a difference," the king replied. "Eat your breakfast, Legolas."

The stunned expression on Legolas' face was so comical that Keldarion couldn't resist teasing him, "Yes, brat. Eat your breakfast. Don't want to displease your sons' _grand_father, do you?"

"You are a fine one to talk when after the next few months you will become a father yourself," Legolas retorted. He then added, his tongue in his cheek, "Say, Kel, what would you do if your son or daughter dance around naked in the garden in the middle of the night and then their _grand_father just say, "Oh, leave them be, they are just…" "

"Shut up, brat!" Keldarion threw a bun at his brother's head.

Laughing, Legolas quickly ducked. Growling when he missed, Keldarion grabbed an apple and let fly. Legolas couldn't escape it this time. The fruit smacked him square in the forehead.

For several moments, Legolas just gaped numbly at his brother. And then his eyes rolled upwards and he toppled off his chair.

"Oh, crap…" Keldarion muttered, horrified.

And everyone started talking all at once.

"Legolas!"

"Kel, you idiot!"

"Legolas, are you all right?"

"What were you doing? Trying to kill him?"

"Of course not! I was just…"

"A fine example you are to your nephews!"

"But I didn't mean to hurt him."

"Right. Just knocked him senseless, I suppose."

With a low moan, Legolas blinked. He was tightly surrounded, several worried faces looming above him. He moaned louder. "Aw, come on. Give me a break."

"Are you well, Legolas?" Narasene asked, looking anxious.

"I'm fine, considering how terrible my pride took a bruising," he quipped with a grimace.

"Look, brat. I'm really sorry," Keldarion was saying, "I thought you would duck."

"I did."

"You _did_ the first time but the second time…"

"You mean you hit me again?"

"Shame on you, elf. Your own brother?" Gallard said, shaking his head disapprovingly at Keldarion.

"Way to go, Kel. Way to go." This one was from Gimli.

Keldarion scowled at them both. He then glanced warily at Thranduil. "Well, father, don't you want to add anything?"

The elven king tried to smother a smile. "No. I think you've suffered enough."

"Err…excuse me. Can you please give me some room? I wish to rise now," Legolas announced, still embarrassed from this latest indignity.

"Then let me help you off the floor. Here take my hand."

Legolas started to grab it, but froze when he saw a strange man's face leering back at him. Sliver of dread ran up and down his spine, giving him chills that had nothing to do with the cold floor.

The man's smile turned to frown. "Legolas? Is something wrong?"

Legolas blinked, and gave himself a brief shake. The stranger's face vanished, revealing Aragorn's pleasant countenance instead.

"Are you well, my friend?" the king of Gondor asked again.

"Yes, I'm fine." Legolas nodded vigorously, trying to regain some semblance of nonchalance. He let Aragorn pull him off the floor, though he tensed when the man cupped him around the elbow.

_What the bloody heck is wrong with me?_ Legolas was mad at himself for this strange feeling of uneasiness, but he tried not to let it show.

"Are you sure you are fine, son?" Thranduil asked, watching him closely.

"Never better." Brushing dust off his tunic, Legolas forced himself to grin at them all. "Don't worry, everyone. My head is as hard as…"

"Your brain. Yes, we know that," Gimli growled. "Now I need to get back to my breakfast."

"Again, I'm sorry." Keldarion's gaze was contrite when he spoke to his brother. "I didn't know your reflexes had become slower."

"And your aim has never changed!' Legolas laughed. "So the next time you throw anything at me, make sure I duck first!"

They all returned to their seats and continued with their meal, joking and laughing over the recent incident. Only Legolas was just putting on a show. Deep inside, he was quaking with unnamed fear.

_What is it about Aragorn, or men in general, that turns me into such a nervous wreck?_

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It was already noon but the rainstorm showed no sign of letting up. Instead, it came down heavier than ever.

"If this kept on for a couple more hours, there will be a flood," Gallard commented. Legolas nodded his agreement without speaking. He had important things other than flood in his mind.

The _draq_ glanced at the elf. He easily noticed his friend's preoccupation. "Is anything the matter, Legolas?"

"Huh? What? Uh…no. Nothing's wrong. Everything is...great. Just great," the elf stammered a reply.

Gallard frowned, for he knew the elf was lying. Or hiding something.

The two friends were standing on the west side terrace, watching the rain. Right after breakfast, the ladies had whisked off the children to the nursery for their nap. Thranduil had invited Aragorn to join him in his study, for the elven king had a matter to discuss with the man.

As for the rest, Keldarion had suggested a game of cards. After losing two straight games to Gimli, though, Legolas had quickly lost interest and decided to go and get some fresh air.

"I'll come with you," Gallard had announced as he also stood, throwing his cards down in disgust, "Before I kill someone here for cheating."

"I am not cheating!" the dwarf roared.

"Yes, you are!" Keldarion and the Rivendell twins had roared back.

Legolas still felt Gallard's eyes on him, so he quickly thought of something to distract the _draq_. "Gimli told me that you had a broken wing when you were found. He gave you to me so that I could heal you."

"That's right."

"What happened?"

"What do you mean, what happened?"

"How did you break your wing?"

His tawny eyes flashing, Gallard gave the elf a killing glare. "None of your bloody business."

Grinning now, Legolas crossed his arms and regarded the _draq_. "Hmm. A sore subject, I see. Come on, Gallard. Tell me."

Gallard muttered something under his breath.

"Come again? I can't hear you." The elf cupped a hand behind one ear.

"I said I flew smack into a bloody rock!" the _draq_ growled.

Legolas stared, and then broke up laughing. "What did you fly into a rock for?"

"I didn't! I mean, I did but I wasn't…" Gallard sighed. "It was raining hard at that time, quite like this one. I could hardly see a thing. I didn't notice the rock until at the very last moment, but it was already too late. I was lucky I didn't smash myself into smithereens."

"Why were you flying in a heavy rain in the first place?"

"Because I wasn't thinking. And don't change the subject."

His smile dying down, Legolas had to look away. The roof protected them both from getting wet, but not from the wind. Tiny sprays fell onto the elf's face, so it glistened. The wind tugged at his hair and clothes, almost throwing him off balance.

"What is wrong, Legolas? What is bothering you?" Gallard asked in a much softer voice.

It took a long time for Legolas to answer. "I truly don't know. And that scares me so."

The _draq_ came closer. "Let's go back inside. We can talk more about this."

"No, I…" The elf shook his head. "You go on in. I need to think. And I'd rather do it alone."

Gallard wasn't keen on leaving Legolas by himself out there, but he understood his friend's need for privacy. After giving the elf's shoulder a brief squeeze, the _draq_ turned and walked away.

Legolas looked up. It was raining harder and heavier, the wind harsher and cold. Lighting and thunder cracked and boomed, one after the other.

"What is it?" Legolas softly asked, expecting no reply. "What is really wrong with me? What am I afraid of?"

Yards away, Gallard paused at the door and turned his head for a last look at the elf. He did a double take, astonished at what he saw.

Legolas was going down the short flight of stairs, walking straight into the heavy deluge.

Alarmed, Gallard started to head back towards his friend but thought better of it. He whirled around and ran for the king's study, which was the nearest room. There was one person who could deal with this better than anyone else.

Outside in the lawn, Legolas stared defiantly at the dark, gray sky.

_What's wrong with me?_

A massive thunderclap broke right over his head, but he didn't budge.

Throwing his arms wide, he yelled, "Blast it, ANSWER ME!"

**TBC…**


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm so terribly sorry for the long absence. I have been too busy working. (Sometimes I so hate my job!)**

**And guess what? I'm ENGAGED!**

**Okay. Enough about me. Now let's get back to Leggy and family.**

**Enjoy.**

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"Legolas seems to be quite ill at ease with you," Thranduil remarked quietly to his guest.

Aragorn nodded grimly. "I've noticed that too, my lord. He stiffens every time I come within a foot of him."

They were in Thranduil's study, sitting in the cozy chairs near the roaring hearth to chase away the chill of the morning rain. A silver tray filled with a small pot of lavender tea and its matching cups sat on a small table between them, still untouched.

"Something must have triggered his memory, something which makes him extremely nervous around me. It's as if he expects me to attack him without warning or reason," the man continued to say, looking deeply troubled. "I guess I no longer have his trust."

Thranduil emitted a sad smile. "Do not despair so, Aragorn. My son knows you are a good friend of his. He will come to trust you once more."

Sighing deeply, Aragorn leaned forward and rested his chin against his clasped fists. "But to trust me, he has to remember everything. And to remember, he has to go through the pain all over again. I do not wish that on him. He has suffered quite enough."

"Yet, what other choice does he have?" the elf king said, rising from his seat. He went to place one hand on the man's drooped shoulder. "Until he remembers it all, Legolas will always feel incomplete."

"You think we should help him?"

"Help him how? By telling him all the…" Thranduil gulped with difficulty. "The _horrible_ details?"

Aragorn nodded with a grimace. "Everything that was left out of your journals and the history books, anything that he hasn't found through reading yet."

His face a cold mask, Thranduil turned away before softly replying, "I dare not, Aragorn. I have not the courage to hurt my son that way."

Silence brewed for a long while in the study, broken only by the sound of pattering rain and roaring thunder outside. The two kings were deep in thought, a little unsure of what subject they were supposed to talk about in the first place.

"I…I will tell him," Aragorn finally said, volunteering himself. "Besides, those bad things that happened to him were mostly because of me."

"I don't believe that's a good idea," Thranduil protested, "Legolas might take it the wrong way and kill you. You know that vile temper of his. He acts first and asks questions later."

"Of course. He takes after his father," Aragorn dryly muttered under his breath.

"Hey, I heard that!"

Aragorn smiled. "What are we supposed to do now?"

"We wait."

"But for how long?"

Thranduil had no chance to answer because Gallard suddenly burst into the room without knocking. The _draq_ looked greatly excited about something.

"My lord, you _need_ to see this!"

Annoyed by the rude intrusion, Thranduil crossed his arms and retorted, "_You_ need to see my fist for bursting in like that! I don't care if you are a king yourself I will not tolerate…!"

"We have no time for this nonsense!" His eyes rolling, Gallard reached out and grabbed Thranduil's arm, pulling the elven king none too gently towards the door.

"Unhand me this minute!" Thranduil yelled, twisting easily out of the _draq_'s grasp. "Have you lost your bloody mind?"

"It's _your_ son who has lost his bloody mind!" Gallard shot back, throwing up his hands in the air. "Legolas is out there in the rain, getting soaked to the skin."

Thranduil blinked, rendered dumbstruck for a moment. "He what?"

"I'm not exactly sure what he is trying to do, but I can tell you he is not taking a bath," Gallard replied with a shrug. "Look out the window if you don't believe me. He just stands there in the lawn."

Aragorn had already leapt to his feet and was rushing over to take a look. His eyes instantly widened in astonishment. "What in Arda is he _doing_?"

Not bothering to look out the window, Thranduil spun and hurriedly left the room. By the time he reached the west side terrace, he was running at full tilt. He came to a halt at the top steps, staring in disbelief.

Sure enough. Legolas was standing like a statue in the downpour, as calm as you please. His face was raised to the sky, letting the raindrops batter against his unprotected cheeks and forehead. His eyes were closed, his arms outspread. His sodden clothes were plastered to his body like second skin. He made nary a move, even when his father shouted his name.

Growling with impatience, Thranduil leaped clearly off the steps and rushed headlong into the rain. As he came near, he grabbed his son's arm and yanked him around. "What the blazes do you think you're doing?"

Legolas didn't reply. Instead, he gave his father a forlorn gaze.

Sighing, Thranduil gulped down a sharp retort. Harsh words would not help matters, he realized. He softened his voice when he said next, "Look, son. It's dangerous out here. You might get struck by lightning again."

Still Legolas did not answer, and his telling gaze never wavered.

Thranduil turned pale, shocked by the unspoken truth. "Ai Elbereth. You _are_ waiting for the lightning to strike you, aren't you?"

This time, Legolas turned his eyes away. He stared in avid fascination at the redwood tree, the one that he had been climbing down when the lightning hit him a couple of weeks ago.

Thranduil was dismay to find himself thrown off balance by Legolas' lack of response. He didn't know what to make of it, didn't know how to proceed next. He felt quite numb, having no idea on how to deal with his son's worrying state, the son who seemed to have reached the ultimate breaking point. So Thranduil had to rely on instinct.

Pure paternal and kingly instinct.

"Get inside, Legolas." The order came out soft yet harsh.

Legolas turned back to his father, blinking mutely.

"I said, get inside or—Valar help me—I swear I'll trounce you. Right here, right now."

The threat appeared to work, for Legolas blinked one more time before jerking out of his stupor. "Valar almighty. What has gotten into me?"

Thranduil quickly reached out to steady his son who suddenly swayed. "Let's get you out of the rain."

Legolas dazedly nodded. "Yes, yes. Of course."

The lightning suddenly chose that moment to strike, accompanied by an ear-popping thunder. Both father and son simultaneously dropped to the ground from reflex, crying out in fright when a nearby tree was hit, causing its top to smolder in the rain. Burning branches and twigs fell to the ground amid splashes of puddles and crackling flames, not more than twenty feet away.

"Better hurry, son," Thranduil gasped, dragging Legolas to his feet. But the prince was frozen to the spot, panic stricken, gaping at the fallen branches.

"I hate thunderstorm, I hate thunderstorm, I hate thunderstorm…" he kept muttering to himself, unable to tear his gaze from the sight. In his mind, he was actually seeing himself—lying broken and senseless under the tree.

"Not my favorite weather, too. So let's get inside. Quick!"

There was another person there besides his father, assisting him to rise, but Legolas was too stricken to take notice or to care. He just let himself being steered hurriedly back onto the terrace, out of the rainstorm. He found Gallard waiting there, staring in wide-eyed fascination.

And next to the _draq_, stood Narasene—looking so pale and terrified.

"Ah, Nara. Good that you're here," said Thranduil as he wrung the water out of his tunic, "Why don't you take your silly husband off my hands and get him into some dry clothes before he catch an ague."

Narasene stared at Legolas some more before she finally turned around and led the way, saying not a word. Quite disturbed by his wife's pronounced silence, Legolas was left with no choice but to follow her.

"Maybe she can talk some sense into him," Aragorn softly said as they all watched the couple go.

Thranduil grimly nodded. "She had better be, or I have to _knock_ the senses back into him! The crazy fool. Gave me a heart attack again, that's what he did."

"Um…I think I had better go change before my wife starts screaming at me. She really hates wet things," Aragorn said to make his escape, already stripping off his outer tunic. He had been in the rain for only a short a while but he was as equally drenched.

"I thank you for your help out there," Thranduil remarked, albeit grudgingly.

With a sad smile, the man replied before leaving, "Yes, but…I wish I could do more."

Thranduil was left alone with Gallard. He growled at the _draq_, "What are you looking at?"

Gallard crossed his arms and gave the elf a knowing grin. "Why, I'm looking at the greatest father I've ever met, my lord. You put up a façade of this coldhearted formidable domineering self-righteous person whom everyone fears, when in truth you are as mellow and vulnerable where your sons are concern. You look like you don't care when you actually do, maybe a bit too much."

In one of those rare moments in his life, Thranduil was struck speechless. He could only scowl in reply as Gallard lazily walked away, whistling a happy tune under his breath.

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Legolas sat stiffly on the edge of his bed, watching his wife rummage through his dresser. Narasene had kept her silence the entire while. Her tightening lips and the telltale flush on her cheeks was the only sign that showed her great ire.

"I have a feeling that you're angry with me," he muttered, suddenly anxious. "Why?"

Slamming a drawer shut, Narasene turned to face him, cradling an armful of clothes. She came over and dumped the entire bundle on the bed next to him.

"You can change yourself, I supposed?" On that retort, she spun and made a move for the door.

"Nara, wait!" Legolas jumped to his feet and grabbed her arm, none too gently.

With a small cry of anguish, Narasene twisted her arm out of his grasp and let fly the other. Her palm hit Legolas smack in the middle of his chest, sending him down onto his rump. He sat there, stunned and winded from the blow.

"I saw you," she heatedly said, glaring down at him. "Our _sons_ saw you. The nursery overlooks the lawn, or don't you remember that too? The boys were so scared to see you standing there in the rain. They were crying when they asked me what's wrong with you, will the lightning hit you again, will you be killed, were you going to leave them forever this time!"

Taking a deep breath, she continued in a much lower tone, "You may hurt me however you wish, for I can bear such pain. But don't you _ever_ hurt our children like that again. I won't let you, I swear."

Not waiting for her husband to reply, Narasene rushed out of the room. She walked hurriedly to the nursery, still steaming with fury. Halfway there, she stopped. With one hand against the wall to brace herself, she closed her eyes and tried to keep her tears at bay. She couldn't afford to break down now. Her children needed her. Legolas needed her.

Her eyes instantly flew open. _Legolas_ _needs me!_

She ran back towards their room, towards her husband. When she got there, she found him exactly the way she had left him.

Legolas sat slump on the floor against the bed, head lowered and eyes downcast, his shoulders shaking. He was softly sobbing, tears running freely down his already wet face. He didn't look up when she came near, but still he spoke, "I'm so sorry, Nara. I'm so very sorry."

"Oh, my love. I'm so sorry too." Also weeping, Narasene sat on the bed and gathered him close. He responded by wrapping his arms around her waist and buried his face against her stomach, trying to muffle his pitiful sobs.

She rubbed his back, stroked his head, ran her fingers through his sodden hair, and whispered silly nonsense into his ear. After a while, he calmed down somewhat, though shuddering a bit from the aftermath.

Tenderly, she placed kisses onto the trail of tears on both his cheeks. She kissed his brow, his nose, his forehead. She slowly traced her fingers against his trembling lips and kissed those too.

"Let me get you undressed, my husband."

Legolas let her without complain, sitting still while she undid his buttons, one after the other. As she peeled the shirt of him, Narasene bent down to kiss him between the shoulder blades. He shuddered from the touch, his eyes tightly shut.

He stood when she asked him to, and watched in avid fascination as she untied the laces that held his leggings together. Slowly—oh, ever so slowly—Narasene lowered the leggings, getting down to her knees while doing so.

"Are…are you…" Legolas cleared his throat and tried to speak clearly. "Are you trying to…uh…go down on me here?"

With a seductive smile, she looked up at him and asked, "Why, my lord? What made you ask?"

He gulped. "Err…no reason."

Chuckling softly, Narasene took a blanket and began to towel him dry, head to foot. "This is all too familiar, don't you think?"

"It sure is," he said through gritted teeth, sending frantic orders to a certain part of his body to control itself.

She paused when she heard him hiss. "Was I too rough, my dear?"

"No."

"Are you all right?"

"Peachy."

"Are you sure?"

He scowled. "Just finish with it, lady. It's drafty in here."

"But I thought you're enjoying this…_aiiiee_!" She gave out an unladylike shriek when Legolas lifted her bodily and threw her onto the bed.

Smiling roguishly down at her, he asked, "Did you regret ever marrying me, Nara?"

Leaning backward on her elbows, she boldly gazed up and down the length of his body. "_No_. Never."

Legolas blushed. "Wench."

She giggled and stretched one leg to stroke his bare thigh with her foot, causing him to jump.

"Ai Elbereth! Stop it, lady. It's distracting." Turning serious once more, he continued, "Nara, how can you ever stand me? I mean, I have a clear feeling there is something terrible about me, something that everyone is trying to hide."

Narasene straightened, her smile slowly faded. "Yes, there is."

"Can you tell me what it is?"

"Forgive me, but I can't, even if I wanted to. Legolas, we all hate to leave you in the dark like this but we have no other choice."

He nodded and gazed back at her. "Was it so awful, what I did?"

Narasene blinked. "What _you_ did?"

"Did I kill someone? Did I lose my senses and became such a monster no one wants to talk about? Did I bring great shame to my family? Or have I shamed you?" His eyes widened when a thought struck him. "Oh, Lord. I hurt the boys, didn't I? I hurt my own sons? What did I do to them? What did I do?"

"No, no. Stop talking like this." Narasene leaped off the bed and flew into his arms. She cupped his cheek, gazing straight into his pain-filled eyes. "You've done nothing bad—to your sons, to me, or to _any_one for that matter. How could you think you were capable of hurting us? You are the kindest and most compassionate person I've ever known. You can be so annoyingly dense sometimes but I can live with that. Oh, my lord, can't you see? I would never love you if you were such a terrible being."

He shyly grinned at her. "You really do love me?"

She smiled back, draping her arms around his neck. "Come here and let me show you."

And that was exactly what she did.

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"Hello? Hey, elf. Are you decent?"

Grumbling with annoyance, Legolas rolled over onto his back and blinked woozily at the ceiling.

"All right, elf. Let me rephrase that question. Are you fully sated?"

That caused Legolas to jerk upright with a muttered oath. He glanced at the bed next to him to see no sign of his wife before turning his forceful glare at the grinning _draq_. "You stupid bird. Don't you ever knock?"

"Oh, you're afraid I might happen to see you and your wife doing it, is that it? Have no worries then, my friend. I just saw Nara in the nursery. She is trying to coax the twins to eat their dinner and not playing with it."

Legolas was still glaring. "Then what the blazes are you doing here?

"To call _you_ down for dinner, of course."

"What are you? A servant now?"

"Nah. I just want to see that amusing look on your face so I volunteered myself. I knew it would grate on your nerves," Gallard said with a nonchalant shrug. "Come on, lazybones, hurry up and get dressed. They are all waiting below."

Wrapping a sheet around his waist, Legolas waddled around the room as he picked up his discarded clothes, murmuring to himself the entire while.

Gallard tried to smother his laughter. It was fun to see the graceful elf looking so…well, ungraceful. "You know? I heard the ladies talking and they were absolutely right."

"What?" Legolas asked without any real interest, balancing on one foot as he put on his leggings.

"You are so appealingly sexy."

Legolas froze, his face burning bright crimson. Then, with a mighty roar, he leaped and made a grab for Gallard's neck. He missed.

The _draq_ had jumped into the air and shifted into the eagle that he was. He flew around above Legolas' head, shrieking taunts at the stumbling elf.

"Not fair! You cheated," Legolas fumed, shaking his fist at Gallard. The _draq_ was having so much fun with the game he swooped down and began to peck playfully at Legolas' head.

The elf was having none of it. His hand came up in a blur and caught the eagle by its neck. "Got you!" he crowed with delight, "Now let's see how pretty you'll look with all that feathers plucked and…"

Legolas stared numbly at the eagle in his clutch as hundreds of visions suddenly passed through his mind, though they were not merely visions. They were memories. Lots of memories, and they all had anything to do with the eagle—happy ones, exciting ones.

Tragic ones.

Wordlessly, Legolas opened his hand and let Gallard go. In a flurry of fanning wings, the _draq_ quickly changed form until he stood on his two human feet.

"Legolas, you maniac! You could have killed me!" Gallard yelled, rubbing at his throat. When the elf didn't answer, he paused and frowned. "Hey, elf. What's wrong with you?"

Legolas took some time to answer. And when he did, his voice came out soft and weak. "You were there."

Puzzled, Gallard could only stare in incomprehension. "I'm sorry?"

"You were _there_!" the elf said, louder this time, his silver eyes ablaze and glittering.

"_Where_?" the draq shot back, "What the blazes are you talking about?"

"When I tried to kill myself, you were there and saw the whole thing. You were there in this very room," Legolas replied, his gaze steady and heated. "You saw me cut my face, my arms, my wrists. You saw me _bleed_."

Shaking his head slowly, he added, "You saw the degradation that I had become. Only you."

His mouth hanging opened, Gallard took a wary step back. "Legolas, I…"

"You _knew_ what happened to me. You _knew_ why I tried to take my own life."

"Yes, that's right," Gallard reluctantly admitted, getting highly anxious.

"Then tell me," the elf prince demanded, his face a dangerous cold mask. "Tell me _why_."

Gallard gulped with difficulty, already regretting coming up there to Legolas' room. "I can't and I won't. I'm sorry, Legolas. That is one answer that will never come from me. I love you that much. Come down to dinner when you are ready."

Before the elf could stop him, the _draq_ whirled around and fled.

Glowering at the hastily closed door, Legolas had to swallow his yell of frustration. _What is everyone hiding from me?_

He wanted to scream, wanted to shout, wanted to throw and smash some things. Instead, he went to the wash basin and repeatedly splashed some cold water onto his face. As droplets dribbled onto his bare torso, he stared at his own reflection. It was the same face he saw everyday, but he swore he could see hundreds of tiny bleeding cuts covering his otherwise flawless skin. His eyes were bloodshot, and filled with a mix of unknown pain and fear.

_What put it there?_ he asked again.

Like before, no one answered.

With a cry, he angrily swiped his arm, sending the porcelain basin crashing to the floor. He glared at the watery mess at his feet, his chest heaving. Noticing an empty vase sitting on the nearby table, he picked it up and hurled it away with all his might. It slammed against the farthest wall with a sickening crash, almost hitting a large painting hanging there.

That caused him to stop, to gaze at the painting. It was of his mother, made by his own two hands. As tears swam in his eyes, he walked to it. Relief that he hadn't ruined it, Legolas lovingly ran his fingers across his mother's image—tracing the line of her cheeks and her upswept smile. He never knew her because she died giving birth to him, but he always met her in his dreams.

"Oh, mother, I wish you could speak and end this confusion," he moaned to the picture. "I can't stand this anymore. I think I'm growing crazy from the not-knowing!"

He didn't know how long he stood there, staring beseechingly at his mother's painting as if waiting for it to come alive. When it obviously couldn't, he stepped back and walked forlornly towards his bed. He had decided to forgo dinner, he had no appetite. He just wanted to…

Heck. He didn't know what he wanted anymore.

Lying on the bed, he closed his eyes and willed himself to go to sleep. But of course sleep wouldn't come because he had just woken up. Groaning with displeasure, he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

That was when he saw the ledge.

The small wedging space near the ceiling had been Legolas' favorite hiding spot since he was a child, a private place for him to brood and sulk or to simply have some quiet time for himself. It was also a space which gave him much inspiration to draw. If he remembered correctly, he still kept several sketchbooks up there.

Jumping off the bed, he leaped onto the dresser and nimbly made his way up. He scrambled over and settled himself over the ledge, feet dangling. Just as he had thought, his old sketchbooks were littered about the place, covered with cobwebs and dust from long neglect. He decided that he should take them all down and place them in better storage, but maybe later. Right now, he wanted to go through all the sketches because there might lay the answers he had been searching for.

Unlike everyone else, Legolas didn't prefer writing journals. He drew. Anything interesting that happened, be it sad or happy or momentous, he drew them all in his sketchbooks. As the current Lord of Ithilien, he _did_ write into his journal daily—much to his great distaste, though. But he had been drawing since early childhood, and it was a habit hard to let go. Often he caught himself doodling in the household ledger—much to Narasene's annoyance. Her eyes would narrow a bit before she told him in that sweet voice of hers to remove the silly doodling with an eraser or she would…

Legolas blinked. _Now where did that come from?_

He smiled then, knowing that certain things were gradually coming back to him, piece by piece. Maybe there was still hope for him to fully recover his memory.

_But what if I won't?_

Shaking off that dreary thought, he picked up one of the tattered sketchbooks. Thankfully, the drawings inside were still intact. Most were in charcoal, so they didn't easily fade with time.

He languidly looked through them one by one. He chuckled when he came to a sketch he had made of his father a very long time ago—the Mirkwood king was picking at his nose when he thought no one was looking. There was also a picture of Thranduil wearing only a pair of leggings and a cloth wrapped around his head as he carried his injured youngest son away from a clump of black nettle bushes.

Legolas smiled as he recalled that day, as clear as if it happened yesterday. His father may be fierce, but he was more bark than bite.

_But when he bites…_

Legolas shuddered and continued on with the other drawings. There were also pictures of Keldarion; graceful Keldarion in a sword practice, Keldarion on horseback at breakneck speed, Keldarion flirting with the giggling maidens, naked Keldarion frolicking in the garden.

Legolas broke out laughing. Oh, he remembered the last one very well. He had actually made a larger version of the drawing—in multicolor. Keldarion had it stashed somewhere in a hidden place, not knowing that his younger brother had made up a copy of it in black and white.

_All right, enough playing around_, Legolas told himself later afterwards. He searched the pile of sketchbooks, looking for the most recent one. When he found it, he quickly skimmed the pages, suddenly losing patience.

There were many sketches of a pair of ferrets, some of a beautiful white tiger and various kinds of other animals. There was also a drawing of a dwarf fighting a huge spider. He then paused at the picture of a human child—dark haired, blue eyed and very good looking.

_Who is he?_

A sliver of dread was running up and down Legolas' spine. He didn't understand why the boy made him so uneasy, and he wanted to know the reason. He hurriedly turned the pages, almost tearing the paper apart. The boy appeared several more times after that, always smiling and laughing like any carefree child would do.

Legolas was almost to the last page when he finally saw it, the drawing that manifested his fear all this while.

And it made him terribly sick.

**TBC…**

**Not long now. The cat is out of the bag, and this fic has only two more chapters!**


	12. Chapter 12

**I'M STILL ALIVE!**

**Hello, everyone. Yes, I'm back—still alive and kicking. Want to know where I've been to? Check out the Manyan Group and you'll find out the answer.**

**Okay, here's the new chapter. Only a couple more now!**

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"Finally, the rain has stopped," said Thranduil, shooting a quick glance out the window as he took his seat at the head of the dining table.

"And about time, I would say," Keldarion put in, seated at his father's immediate right. "The main stream is near to overflowing. We may have had to evacuate those who live in the lower area if the rain hadn't let up any sooner."

"I hoped it would not come to that. Think about all the fuss it would be to move all those people out of their homes," the elven king said, dipping a spoon into his lemon pudding. "That is, _if_ they wanted to move."

"We had the same problem in Rivendell once," Elrohir pointed out. "Do you remember, Ell? The big flood over two centuries ago? Most of the houses were already submerged to the roof, but the people still refused to budge."

Elladan nodded after taking a sip of his wine. "They said they wanted to make sure that their houses would not be swept away. How they were going to do that, I still wonder. As if they could fight the force of nature."

"They gave us no choice but to use our father's army to _make_ them move to safety," Elrohir added, shaking his head. "I can still recall this one particular lady who screamed and fought like a mad woman as I dragged her up to higher ground."

Aragorn grinned. "Ah, yes. I've heard that story. Arwen told me that the lady you rescued actually had the hots for you once, but then found you in bed with her mother instead. She then vowed that you would be the last male on Middle-earth she would choose for her mate. She would rather die than stand close to such a lecherous scoundrel—her words, not mine."

Elrohir turned bright red as laughter erupted around the table. "Why, that little traitorous she-elf! I told her not to say a word to you. I'm going to…"

"Oh, sit down, Ro. No use killing Arwen for providing this extra entertainment," Elladan said with a chuckle, pushing his twin back into his seat. "Besides, she and the other ladies are in the nursery. You don't want the children to see you fighting with your own baby sister, do you? What a good example _that_ would be."

Instead of answering, Elrohir sent his twin a sharp glare before he started munching on his slice of carrot cake with a vengeance.

Gimli, still having trouble breathing after that bout of laughter, gasped as he asked, "You…you took the _mother_ instead…instead of the daughter? What, you had particular taste for old ladies or something?"

"She was _not_ old," Elrohir angrily insisted, his mouth full. "In fact, the last I saw her she was still a very lovely lady."

"Of course you would say that. It's like what they all claim — love is blind."

Elrohir quickly gulped down his food before crying out, "It was _not_ love! It was just—"

"—a casual dalliance between a hormone-driven male and a lonely widow who hungered for tender loving care," Elladan helpfully added with a sly grin. "In short, it was just mind-numbing sex."

Elrohir's eyes narrowed for a full heartbeat before he grabbed a cream puff and shoved it into his brother's smirking face. Elladan shrieked and flailed his arms about to push his twin away. Thoroughly amused, Aragorn and Gimli happily cheered them on.

Keldarion could only blink at the spectacle. "I thought we were talking about rain and flood just now. How the blazes did it come to _this_?"

He then shrugged and resumed eating. "Oh, well. The twins sure know how to turn everything upside down, don't you agree, father? Silly Elrohir. I can't believe he let the daughter find him together in bed with her own mother like that."

When he got no response, Keldarion turned to his father and stared in disbelief because Thranduil looked so flustered his face was burning bright crimson.

"Err…are you well, father?"

"Shouldn't I be?" Thranduil barked in reply, and quickly focused his full attention back to his meal.

Keldarion blinked again, more rapidly this time. _Now what on earth was that all about?_

Several feet away—with delectable white cream still smudged all over his face—Elladan was about to strangle his younger twin to death. Laughing, Aragorn and Gimli quickly reached out and pulled him back to his seat. And that was when Gallard entered the hall, looking so distracted he didn't even notice the current chaos at the dining table.

"Hey, Gallard," Keldarion called out, "I thought you went to go and get my brother."

The _draq_ sat down, wearing a frown. He unfolded his napkin with care and placed it on his lap, taking his own sweet time before answering, "Um, yes. Yes, I did."

"So, where is he?"

Gallard glanced up. "Who?"

"_Legolas_—that's who!" Thranduil roared suddenly, causing everyone else to jump in his seat. Obviously, the king was quickly losing his patience with the entire affair. "Why didn't he come down here with you? Is he not hungry?"

Chagrined, Gallard stuttered a response, "Ah…well, he…he is…uh…I just don't think food would even cross his mind right now."

"What do you mean?"

"Actually, he is in a very strange mood," Gallard replied, a little wary at meeting Thranduil's gaze. "He suddenly remembered that I was there when he tried to…to…uh…"

"Oh, for crying out loud. _Speak up, boy_!"

"He _knew_ I was there on that day he attempted to kill himself!" Gallard snapped back, his tawny eyes afire. "He started asking me questions I found utterly difficult to answer. I mean, how should I have replied when he kept pushing me to tell him _what _had caused him to take the coward way out and try to take his own life?"

The others went still, thoroughly shocked by this revelation. The dining table turned eerily silent for the longest moment.

Finally, Thranduil spoke, "So did you tell him?"

"Did _I_ tell him?" The _draq_ scoffed, though not with amusement. "I still value my hide, my lord. Thank you very much."

A small sigh of relief escaped from Thranduil's lips, but it was jerked back in shock when Aragorn abruptly stood and announced, "Then _I_ shall tell him."

They all stared agape at him as the man added, "I shall tell him the whole truth. All those awful things that happened to him happened because of _me_. It is my responsibility to come clean with him, once and for all. Or we will always be like this—walking on thin glass whenever we are around him."

"Estel, wait..!"

Aragorn didn't heed his brothers' cries. His face was set in stone as he whirled around and briskly left the dining hall.

Muttering curses under his breath, Keldarion jumped to his feet to chase after the human king, but came to immediate halt when his father called out, "Kel!"

Then in a much softer tone, Thranduil said, "Let him go."

"But, father, Legolas cannot handle the truth right now," Keldarion tried to reason. "He is not fully well—bodily, mentally. And…"

"I know, son. I know." Thranduil also stood. He put a calming hand on his son's shoulder. "But the real truth will come out, sooner or later. And I prefer it to be sooner, so your brother can move on with his life without anything holding him back. It's just that I don't have the courage to do what Aragorn is about to do."

"But we don't know how Legolas would react," Keldarion said. "Ai, Elbereth. Aragorn might get hurt or killed!"

"Look, let's don't get overdramatic here," Gimli suddenly spoke from his chair. "We should give Legolas a little credit. Maybe the stupid elf can take this entire matter a lot better than we thought."

They all give the dwarf the same smoldering look.

"Or maybe not," Gimli lamely muttered.

"All right, how about this?" Elrohir suggested, "We give Aragorn some time to deal with Legolas. If he doesn't return after a half an hour, we will all go up there to…to…well, whatever it is we have to do to keep two people who were murdering one another apart."

Elladan glared at his twin. "That doesn't help at all, you nitwit!"

"I think maybe Elrohir is right," Gallard voiced out. "We should give them both time to settle this, for everyone's sake."

"But what are we supposed to do in the mean time?" Keldarion asked no one in particular, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

"We wait," Thranduil stated. He pushed his elder son back into his chair before reclaiming his seat. "We wait and finish our dinner. Now can somebody pass me that almond tart?"

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"Legolas?"

Aragorn pushed the door open when there was no reply from within. His friend's chamber was so quiet and still. He warily stepped through the threshold, as if waiting for a blade to fall unexpectedly upon his neck. When that didn't happen, he closed the door behind him and called again.

"Legolas, are you in here?"

Still no reply. Aragorn glanced about and noticed the elf's lack of presence. He was about to retrace his steps to the door when a slight thump came from the farthest corner of the room, causing him to jerk around and put up a guarded stance.

"That's quite a reflex—for a human," Legolas commented as he came near, his arms loaded with a pile of old and dusty sketchbooks.

Aragorn placed a hand over his chest, trying to stop the crazy flutter of his heartbeat. "I didn't see you. Where in the world did you come from?"

A cold, rigid mask was Legolas' face as he dumped his burden onto his bed. "Nowhere. Why are you here?"

The man gulped before he could reply. Gallard was right. Legolas did indeed look strange.

"We were all wondering why you didn't come down for dinner."

"Food is not what I need right now," the elf answered, his face averted.

_All right then. About time to change the bloody subject_, Aragorn thought. He gestured at the sketchbooks on the bed. "What are those?"

"What the blazes do they look like?" Legolas snapped back, facing him fully. He looked white and ill, but his eyes were like burning silver—filled with anger and pain.

Cautiously, Aragorn put up a reassuring hand. "Easy, my friend. Tell me, what has made you so upset?"

Legolas came closer, staring hard into the man's eyes as he hissed, "You call me your friend?"

Startled, Aragorn had to take a step back. There was a hint of venom in the elf's voice.

_Great._ _Things are already starting to go wrong. And I haven't even told him anything!_

"If you really are my friend, than you had better tell me what this means!" The elf picked one particular sketchbook and hurled it at him.

Aragorn managed to catch the book at the last moment before it could smack him in the face. He curiously leafed through it, and then started to smile. "It's your sketches. I thought you were only good at painting, but this is something else. More personal, somewhat. You never showed this to me before, or anyone else for that matter."

His smile fading, Aragorn looked up and asked, "Why show it to me now?"

Legolas had already walked away to stand and glower at the wall. "Go to the last pages."

"What?" The curiosity almost killed him, so Aragorn went through the book very quickly, unable to appreciate each sketch at the leisurely pace it deserved. While doing so, he noticed several sketches of a young human boy. Without being told, he knew it was him. And then he came to the most daunting sketch he had seen so far.

It was of Keldarion, lying shirtless and bound to the ground, surrounded by a group of brawny men. The dark-haired elf was huddling in pain as he was tortured with horsewhips and a burning torch. Bloodied lacerations and burn marks were already spread all over his exposed torso, like a twisted pattern.

"Valar. It's Kel…" Aragorn breathed with difficulty. He had never known the extent of Legolas' talent and his eyes for details, but now he did. The sketch looked remarkably vivid—and thoroughly disturbing.

"You are looking at the one of my brother, I believe?" Legolas spoke, very quietly. "Look at the next page."

Aragorn didn't want to, but he did as he was told. His legs instantly turned to rubber and he almost dropped to the floor. He went to sit down hard on the bed instead. "Oh, my lord. Oh, my lord. No…"

"Now you are looking at me, surrounded by the same men. I think we both know what they had done to me, am I right?"

Legolas' voice was so soft Aragorn had to strain his ears to hear. He stared at the drawing with his throat tightening, nearly choking him.

Only years ago, he had found out—the hard way—what Legolas and Keldarion had sacrificed to keep him safe. But never had he thought that it would stare back at him so clearly, right in the face.

"Why did those men did that to me, Aragorn?" Legolas demanded to know as he spun around. "_Why_? Do you have anything to do with it? Did you tell them to do it?"

"_What_?" Naturally, Aragorn was shocked by this. "No. No, you got it all wrong, Legolas."

The man grimaced as he looked back down at the picture. A cold shiver ran down his spine to see the total emptiness in Legolas' eyes as he lay there at the men's feet, naked and battered.

"Blast it, Legolas! Why do you still keep these vile sketches? And why did you even _draw_ them in the first place?"

"Those are not simply sketches, _human_, they are my journals!" Legolas shouted, "And my journals never lie. Turn to the next page."

"Please, let me explain some things first…"

"I said, TURN TO THE NEXT PAGE!"

Aragorn turned the page with trembling hand…and wished he hadn't.

It was a picture of him, a young boy in the stream with his head clearly underwater. In panic, his arms were haplessly grappling about for surface. In the background, Legolas just stood there and calmly watched, not doing anything to help the boy.

"This boy…it was me, wasn't it?" Aragorn softly asked, as he gently ran his fingers over the sketch. "This was the time when you were at Rivendell after escaping those men. You were a different person—moody, silent, and in a great deal of pain. You barely even spoke. I tried everything to cheer you up. I made jokes, I jumped around like a fool, but you didn't even smile. I asked you to join me for a swim in the stream but you reacted as if I wasn't there. So I went in alone, but then I started to drown."

His eyes shimmering with tears, Aragorn raised his head and stared at the elf. "You were going to let me, weren't you?"

Legolas refused to answer, but gave the man a baleful stare of his own.

Putting down the sketchbook, Aragorn stood to confront the elf. "You actually _waited_ for me to die?"

With a shrug, Legolas said, "I don't know, I can't remember. I must have had some very good reasons, though. Besides, those sketches already told us what we all want to know."

"Like I've said, you got it wrong!"

"Which part that is wrong? When those men kept Kel and me captive? When they tortured my brother? When they violated me? And why is that when I think of _them_, my mind comes back to _you_? Why is that, Aragorn? What's your connection to this? What did you do?"

"I did _nothing_!"

"Then what have we done to deserve all this?"

"You were protecting me!" Aragorn cried out in anguish. He then added in a weaker voice, "You were just protecting me and then paid the biggest price for it."

"_Why_ would we want to protect you?"

The man shook his head in disbelief. "Valar. You really can't remember, can you? You really have no idea of the extent of our friendship. Legolas, I've said this before, but hear me again. I'm so sorry for everything."

Legolas shook it off with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "Save it. I don't want to hear."

"But you must know the whole truth. I have a lot to explain so that you can understand how everything happened as it happened."

That didn't seem able to appease Legolas' wrath, unfortunately. His gaze grew harder as his eyes drew narrower. "Prepare yourself, human."

"Wh…what?"

"The longer I look at you, the more my heart burns with pain." Legolas revealed a dagger he had been holding. "So I have to kill you."

**TBC…**


	13. Chapter 13

**We are close to the end now.**

**So here's a new chapter.**

**BEWARE :** **Evil cliffie from Mordor up ahead. Do not proceed if you have fear of hanging by a thin wire.**

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In the dining hall below, Lord Thranduil was just finishing his tea when he suddenly stiffened. Without warning, he bolted off his seat and dashed out the door.

"Father, what…?" Astonished by his father's odd behavior, Keldarion could only stare open-mouthed.

But then he also heard it—the faraway sound of crossing blades.

"Holy sh…!" Cursing, the elf-prince leapt to his feet and ran like mad after his father. The Rivendell twins were close behind him, for they undoubtedly had heard the same thing.

That left the dwarf and the _draq_ alone at the dining table, blinking stupidly at each other.

"Say, what the blazes is going on?" Gimli asked.

"I have no idea," Gallard replied with a frown. "Maybe they all need to use the restroom or something?"

"I think I'll go and find out," said Gimli, leaving the table.

"Right. Me too."

Gallard and Gimli made haste for the door, still wondering at what had caused the four elves to act so strangely. They were standing in the main foyer—turning this way and that to determine where the elves had gone to—when the sound of someone's cry came from above floors,

"_No, Legolas! Stop! Don't kill him!_"

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Legolas paused in mid strike, the hand that gripped the deadly dagger hovering just inches from Aragorn's neck.

"Get out," he softly told the others without taking his gaze off the man lying sprawled beneath him, "This is my business. Do not interfere."

Aragorn took advantage of the elf's slight distraction by twisting hard to one side, trying to free himself. At the same time he let fly one arm, hitting Legolas smack on the jaw—hard enough to knock the elf unbalance. In one swift maneuver, the man rolled to his feet and away from Legolas. Elladan and Elrohir instantly rushed over and pushed their brother behind them, standing between him and the furious elf.

Regaining his balance, Legolas crouched there like a miffed cat—glaring and hissing with anger. He was about to jump upon Aragorn again when his father stepped into his path and grabbed his armed wrist.

"Cease, Legolas!" the elven king cried out, "This is madness. You don't know what you're doing."

With nary a flicker, Legolas roped his free arm over his father's and jerked viciously downward until the grip loosened—a move taught by Thranduil himself. In the next second, he went back to attacking Aragorn.

This time, Keldarion interfered. He tightly embraced his younger brother from behind, trapping Legolas' arms to his sides.

Legolas struggled mightily, but Keldarion was no frail elf. He was a strong warrior, fast and agile on his feet. Nobody could find release that easily, not even his mad-for-vengeance wildcat of a brother.

"Please, Legolas, you have to listen to us," Keldarion tried to reason, "Whatever it is that you thought of Aragorn, you must not hurt him. You will only regret it later."

"Who says I want to hurt him? I want to _kill_ him!" With a roar, Legolas jerked down his foot and slammed his heel against his brother's toe.

Keldarion yelped, his hold on Legolas slackened. Shoving his brother aside, Legolas made another attempt towards Aragorn.

But the twins were standing in his way.

"We won't let you harm him," Elladan firmly said, fixing a steady gaze on Legolas. "We will do anything to protect him from you."

"Protect him?" Legolas scoffed. "Why is everyone hell-bent on protecting _him_? He is a filthy human!"

"He is our _brother_, you thickheaded moron!" Elrohir yelled, his fear for Aragorn's life causing him to loose curb on his tongue. "You want to kill him? Over my dead body first!"

"Bb…_brother_?" Legolas was clearly dumbfounded. Slowly, he lowered his dagger and stared at the twins in disbelief.

At that same moment, a sudden commotion erupted in the hallway right outside the room. It looked like all the racket just now had attracted others—most probably Narasene, Arwen and Aislyn.

"Gimli, get back out there and don't let anyone enter this room. And you, Gallard, shut and lock the door," Thranduil gave orders to the _draq_ and dwarf who had only just shown up.

Those two instantly did as they were told without questions. As soon as the door swung shut, loud poundings fell onto the thick hard wood, accompanied by someone's cries demanding to be let in. And then they began to shove at the door so Gallard pressed his back against it, cringing from the effort. Suddenly came the dwarf's loud bellow, promising indescribable torment to anybody who dare to walk pass him.

All the commotion instantly stopped.

Legolas didn't seem to notice the disturbance, though. He was now staring hard at Aragorn, as if seeing the man for the very first time.

Their recent altercation had not been kind to Aragorn. The man sported a split lip, his arms and torso covered with bleeding cuts. His shirt torn in several places. He stood still behind the twins, weaving a bit to the left due to a long gash on his right thigh. Panting with exertion, Aragorn's eyes were sad yet determined as he gazed imploringly back at his best friend who had tried hard to kill him.

Well, not _tried_ exactly. If Legolas had wanted to, he could have killed Aragorn already.

When the elf started his killing frenzy, Aragorn managed to grab a sword hanging on the wall to defend himself. But, clearly, he was no match to Legolas' skill when it came to crossing blades. Even though armed with only a short dagger, in his fury the elf had single-handedly overpowered the human king—who was in fact a skilled and cunning swordsman himself.

Instead of killing him outright, Legolas had toyed with his opponent, circling him around as he stole quick jabs at the man's flesh. A great warrior of his own right, Aragorn twirled and leaped and kicked but still he shed the first blood. And the second. And the third and the rest that followed.

"You call this…this _human_ your brother?" Legolas incredulously voiced out, his head shaking. "Your brother-in-law, you mean."

"Not as simple as that, Legolas. We adopted him. He has been with us since his birth," Elladan explained, pushing Aragorn further back despite the man's obvious protest. "I thought you have learned all this from what you read yesterday."

Legolas blinked as something flashed briefly through his mind. It came and went so fast he couldn't grasp the full meaning of it. "Why?"

"Why we adopted him?" Elrohir scoffed. "It doesn't matter anymore now, does it? What does mattter is that he is our brother and we love him, whether you like it or not. You have problems with that, go take it somewhere else."

"Ro, don't…" Elladan cautioned his twin.

But not unlike Legolas, Elrohir had lack of control on his temper. He deliberately taunted, "Or why don't you take it on someone your own skill, you bully?"

Legolas saw red. His dagger flashing again, he made a leap for Elrohir.

"No, Legolas!" Thranduil cried out. He caught the back of Legolas' tunic and jerked him around, reaching for the dagger.

Growling, Legolas dropped to one knee, causing his father to overbalance. As fast as the eyes could follow, Legolas raised his arms straight upward and then rolled backwards before sending a wild kick, sending Thranduil staggering a few feet back and holding his son's discarded shirt.

The elven king stared agog in disbelief, as if thinking, _I didn't teach him that move_.

But Thranduil was quick to recover. Amid the others' cries of alarm, he hurled the shirt at Legolas' face, blinding his son momentarily. Again Thranduil made a move for the dagger, one arm encircling Legolas' now naked back. He grunted when a punch landed on his side. Legolas hit him again but still he held on, grappling for the dagger in his son's stubborn grip.

Immediately, Keldarion jumped in to help. From behind, he yanked a fistful of his brother's hair and simultaneously reached for the deadly weapon.

Legolas growled, angered to be cornered front and back. In one desperate move, he yanked up one knee. Thranduil retreated to avoid getting kneed in the groin, while Keldarion jumped back to avoid his toe getting smashed like before. Growing more frenzied by the moment, Legolas lashed out kicks and fists when his father and brother advanced on him again.

It was a dazzling sight, this fight between the three remarkable royal warriors. It was fast and furious, arms and legs moving in a blur, hairs and robes flying. Legolas ducked as Keldarion threw a punch, Thranduil leaned back with inches to spare as Legolas slashed with his blade, Keldarion whirled in time to evade a sharp elbow to his eyes. It was eerily beautiful and frightening at the same time.

"Ai, Valar. Please stop this," Aragorn breathed with difficulty as he watched the scuffle. Without his knowing, he took involuntarily steps forward.

Alerted by the man's movement, Legolas risked a glance at him. His hatred for Aragorn burned anew. After deflecting his father's jab and kicking Keldarion out of his way, the former _manyan_ made a last charge at the king of Gondor.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Thranduil roared, seriously mad now. To stop his son, he instinctively leaped and kicked the back of Legolas' knee. Something cracked and Legolas went down.

But he didn't _stay_ down.

Living up to his famous thickheaded-as-a-mule stubbornness, Legolas got to his good knee and rolled head over heels between the startled twins, coming to a stop right in front of Aragorn.

Amazed by the elf's tenacity to kill him, Aragorn could only stare and weep. "Ai, Legolas. You really want to kill me…brother?"

Legolas abruptly went still.

_That's the word again! _

Brother.

Something flickered at the back of his mind. He tried to grasp it, so close and yet so far. Too complicate to understood, difficult to comprehend. A small fragment from the broken collage of his mind.

He saw it again—identical cut in the middle of his palm, on Aragorn's palm.

An oath taken, "You watch my back and I watch over yours."

Estel.

Legolas flinched. _Now where did that come from?_

A bit uncertain, Legolas moved forward—and cried out in anguish when he stepped on his bad leg, the broken knee giving away. He crumpled to the floor with a grunt, and lay there motionless.

"Legolas?" Aragorn tentatively called.

No answer. As one, they all gathered to surround the fallen elf.

Worried, Thranduil touched his son's shoulder. "Legolas, please answer me. Can you hear us?"

Legolas' only response was a low, pitiful groan.

After exchanging nervous looks with his father, Keldarion gently turned his brother onto his back. Dismayed, they all gasped out loud at what they saw.

Buried in Legolas' belly was the dagger that he had tried to use on Aragorn.

**TBC…**

**Scream, baby, scream… ;)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Finally! It took me ages to finish this! My bad.**

**It the time some of you have been patiently waiting for. I present to you the last chapter of 'Tomorrow Once More'!!**

**Hit it, guys!**

**WARNING :**** Uhh…You may find what it is at the ending. I'm not telling now.**

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_Previously, on Tomorrow Once More…_

Amazed by the elf's tenacity to kill him, Aragorn could only stare and weep. "Ai, Legolas. You really want to kill me…brother?"

Legolas abruptly went still.

_That's the word again! _

Brother.

Something flickered at the back of his mind. He tried to grasp it, so close and yet so far. Too complicate to understood, difficult to comprehend. A small fragment from the broken collage of his mind.

He saw it again—identical cut in the middle of his palm, on Aragorn's palm.

An oath taken, "You watch my back and I watch over yours."

Estel.

Legolas flinched. _Now where did that come from?_

A bit uncertain, Legolas moved forward—and cried out in anguish when he stepped on his bad leg, the broken knee giving away. He crumpled to the floor with a grunt, and lay there motionless.

"Legolas?" Aragorn tentatively called.

No answer. As one, they all gathered to surround the fallen elf.

Worried, Thranduil touched his son's shoulder. "Legolas, please answer me. Can you hear us?"

Legolas' only response was a low, pitiful groan.

After exchanging nervous looks with his father, Keldarion gently turned his brother onto his back. Dismayed, they all gasped out loud at what they saw.

Buried in Legolas' belly was the dagger that he had tried to use on Aragorn.

_Now, the story continues…_

"Legolas…" Thranduil choked in horror as he stared at the dagger impaling his son's body. "Sweet Elbereth, what have I done?"

While the rest of the elves were equally dumbstruck, the healer in Aragorn quickly took control.

"No, my lord. This was not your doing," the man said, placing a reassuring hand on Thranduil's arm. "Legolas still lives. Let's get him to the bed, the better for us to treat his wound."

Together, they gently hoisted Legolas off the cold floor. He was completely unresponsive, except for the occasional moans of pain.

"What on earth…?" Keldarion and the others suddenly came to a halt, staring in bewilderment at the jumble of sketchbooks littering Legolas' bed.

Without a word, Aragorn gathered all the books and placed them on a small table. He then turned the covers and plumped up the pillows with the efficiency of a chamber maid. "All right, you may put him down now. Gently, please."

If the timing was not so dire, Keldarion and the Rivendell twins would have teased the King of Gondor about his unusual display of housekeeping. But Legolas suddenly whimpered from pain, and they quickly lay him down. 

"Lord, it…hurts…" Legolas gasped as he lay prone in agony, clutching at his belly.

Sitting by Legolas' side, Thranduil reached up and brushed a golden lock off the prince's temple. "It's going to be all right, son. We will care for you."

Legolas' eyes fluttered open, his gaze unfocused, confused.  "Father? What's…going on?"

The elven king had to swallow hard before he could answer. "I…I caused this. I…"

"It was an accident," Aragorn quickly intervened, bending over Legolas as he inspected his friend's injury. "All that can wait, but this…"

The man shook his head with a sigh. He caught the clean towel Keldarion tossed at him, and pressed it against the bleeding mass. "This must be treated immediately. We must take out the dagger to—"

Aragorn's voice broke off when Legolas abruptly struggled to rise.

"No, Legolas!" Thranduil cautioned, grabbing at his son to support his swaying body. "You can't move about. Your wound…"

Then they all watched, mesmerized, as Legolas reached out a trembling hand towards Aragorn. A bit anxious that his friend might attack him again, the man just stayed still, gazing steadily at the expressions of wonder and uncertainty on Legolas' wan face.

And no one was more surprised than Aragorn when the elf swiped his bloodied palm against the crown of the man's head—the same move both of them had made when they took oath as sworn brothers many years ago.

"Estel…" Legolas broke down, tears of remorse running down his cheeks.

"That's what I'm called," Aragorn nodded, "by my close friends and family."

The man then placed his hand on top of Legolas' head before he added, "By my brothers."

"Estel," the elf whimpered again, "Forgive me…brother…"

With that, Legolas' eyes rolled upwards and he collapsed in his father's arms.

"Legolas!" Thranduil and Keldarion simultaneously cried out as they tearfully embraced him, fearing the worst.

Aragorn quickly checked Legolas' vitals and breathed out a sigh of relief. "He still lives."

As if to remind himself, he announced it once more, louder this time, "He still lives. The blade must be out of him before we can close the wound to stop the bleeding."

Thranduil raised his eyes to glare at the man. "Then what the blazes are you waiting for? Get to it!"

Aragorn straightened, turning to face Elladan and Elrohir. "We have work to do."

The sons of Elrond nodded. They had inherited the art of healing from their father, so they knew what was to be done.

"Our healing pack is in our room," Elladan said, already rolling up his sleeves to get down to business.

"I'll go get it," Elrohir volunteered. He paused to lay a hand on Legolas' chest, softly saying, "Don't go anywhere till I come back, you thickheaded elfling."

"I'll get the servants to bring in some hot water and more towels," Keldarion said next, relinquishing his brother fully into Thranduil's embrace. Wiping the moisture off his face, he walked with Elrohir to the door, where they met Gallard standing guard there still.

Understandably, the _draq_ looked mighty stricken. "Is he…is he going to be alright?"

"That's what we want to make sure of," Elrohir grimly responded and pulled the door open. Too late he realized that the ladies were still out there, trying to find their way in. The elf was suddenly bombarded with a barrage of questions, followed by jostling female bodies.

"What happened, Ro?"

"Is everyone all right?"

"Move out of my way, you oaf!"

"Hey, ladies! Stop trampling me!" This last bit came from Gimli. The dwarf was lying sprawled on the floor, struggling to get back to his feet. "You are all harridans! Harridans, I tell you!"

Gallard almost laughed. _Almost_. "You all right, master dwarf? The ladies too hard for you too handle?"

"Stand in my shoes and you'll know what it actually feels like," Gimli grumbled as he brushed off the dust off his tunic. He paled when he saw Legolas. "Blimey. This is a lot worse than I thought. Is he dead?"

"Not if we can help it," Elrohir said and hurried away.

Keldarion, meanwhile, had pulled his wife aside. "Legolas is badly hurt," he told her worriedly, "I'm going to ask the servants for a supply of…"

"No, let me," Aislinn hastily interrupted. She could see how deeply troubled her husband was, and she wanted to help ease his pain in any way that she could. "You should stay with your brother. Give him some of your strength. Just tell me what you need."

Keldarion then told her what they required to treat Legolas' injuries.

"I'll handle it," she promised and gave him a peck on the cheek. Before she went off, she added, "Be strong, my love."

When Keldarion returned to Legolas' bed, he was dismayed to see the other two ladies already clinging to their respective husband, weeping.

Arwen was checking Aragorn all over, exclaiming with distress to see the cuts and scrapes he had suffered at Legolas' hand. And Narasene—the ever gentle but strong Narasene—had completely broken into pieces. She was sobbing uncontrollably against Legolas, horrified to see the dagger still buried in her husband's belly. Thranduil did everything he could to calm her, but obviously not doing a good job of it because the usually formidable elven king looked as if he was about to lose it himself.

Keldarion exchanged knowing glances with Elladan before they quickly worked to put some order on the situation.

Gently, Elladan pried his sister's hold on Aragorn. "I'm sorry, my dear, but you have to let Estel go. Legolas needs him now."

Arwen blinked away her tears and slowly began to pull herself together. "But Estel is injured himself."

"These are just flesh wounds, nothing serious. I've had much worse, remember?" Aragorn smiled to reassure his wife. "Legolas truly requires my attention."

Still Arwen looked skeptical, but then she saw how Keldarion and Thranduil were having a tough time prying the nearly hysterical Narasene from Legolas' side.

"You are right. My being here and distracting you is not helping any. But I can help take care of Narasene," said Arwen. The Gondor queen then went to her best friend, enveloped the crying lady in her arms and gently tugged her away from the bed. "Nara, your sons need you right now."

"Legolas…" Narasene whimpered as she was led away.

"He is in good hands," Arwen was heard comforting her as they went out the door. "But your twin boys need to know what has happened to their father and you should be the one to tell them."

By the time Elrohir returned to the room with the healing pack under one arm, followed by the servants with supplies of fresh towels and warm water, Aragorn was already gripping the hilt of the cursed dagger, about to start the agonizing process of withdrawing the blade out of Legolas' body. Thranduil and Keldarion stood next to each other in the background, their eyes fixed on the whole procedure.

Pressing a cloth pad against the wound, Elladan said calmly, "One clean steady pull, Estel."

Aragorn grimly nodded and did exactly that.

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Hours later, Aragorn finally straightened, kneading his back with a low groan. Next to him, Elladan and Elrohir were tidying up their healing kit and gathering the blood drenched towels.

Thranduil instantly came from his seat in a far corner of the room and advanced towards them. "Well? Is it done? How is he?"

The Rivendell twins paused what they were doing, while Aragorn hesitated—mixed reactions plastered all over three faces.

Keldarion came in from the balcony. Unable to stand looking at all the blood leaking out of his brother, the elder prince had rushed outside to steady his already rattled nerves—and pray. He had never prayed that hard in all his life. But looking at the peculiar expressions of his friends, Keldarion realized he had not prayed hard enough.

Or that his prayers were already too late.

"Is Legolas going to be all right?" he softly asked, staring not at Aragorn or the twins but at his unconscious brother, lying so still and looking so small in that huge bed.

Elladan, the stronger of the brothers, took the liberty of responding. Placing a hand on Keldarion's shoulder, he solemnly said, "We've done all we can."

Naturally, Thranduil didn't like that answer. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"He has lost too much blood," Aragorn then explained, "The blade cut through an artery. We managed to sew it shut, but there's also the issue concerning the spleen..."

"But he no longer has a spleen," Keldarion protested.

"Exactly," Aragorn nodded, recalling the surgery he had done to remove his friend's ruptured spleen last year. In an attempt to save the man's abducted son, Eldarion, Legolas had been captured and cruelly tortured by Movrak, a Haradrim merchant, resulting in that terrible injury.

"Without the spleen," Aragorn continued, "Legolas' immune system is completely vulnerable. With the wound he has now, he is facing the danger of infection. And if infection sets in, I'm not sure he can recover."

Thranduil's eyes glinted with equaled despair and anger. "Are you saying my son has no chance of recovery?"

Aragorn sighed. "I'm saying 'if', my lord. _If_ infection sets in."

"And yet, in most cases, the probability for infection with the kind of injury to the belly is pretty high," Elrohir stated, and then he turned sheepish. "Uh…I mean…err…sorry."

"We will make sure _that_ won't happen," Elladan said, throwing a glare at his twin. "We will keep a close watch on Legolas."

"You mean, other than that there's nothing more you can do." Thranduil's voice was bleak, as if he was accepting defeat. Keldarion reached over and gave his father's arm a reassuring grip.

Aragorn and his brothers exchanged uneasy looks. After a while, they turned back to the royalties but said nothing.

With a weak nod, Thranduil went to sit by the bed and gazed sadly at Legolas. "Well, then. I thank you for your effort. But please leave. I want to be alone with my son."

Aragorn and his brothers understood. They didn't need to see the elven king's face. The sound of his voice was enough to tell them of the deep guilt Thranduil felt for causing hurt to his son, unintentionally though it was.

"We will come back later," Elladan quietly told Keldarion as they headed for the door. "Somebody needs to monitor Legolas' condition around the clock."

"All right. But I take the first watch and it starts now," Keldarion responded. He looked at Aragorn. "And you need to catch some rest, Estel. Look at those cuts and bruises. Legolas bashed you up good, didn't he?"

The man emitted a small grin. "Only because I let him."

And then his smile faltered, his lips trembling as his eyes pooled with tears. "He remembers me. He calls me Estel. He remembers me and now he is…he is…Ai Valar! I wish I could do more for him. I wish I could do more…"

Seeing that Aragorn was quickly losing the reins on his emotion, Elrohir wrapped an arm around the man's quaking shoulders and began to steer him away. They met the anxious looking Gimli and Gallard walking to and fro in the hallway, and told them in the shortest words possible of Legolas' condition before they resumed walking.

Gimli wanted to stay by Legolas' bed, but seeing the forlorn Thranduil already sitting there caused the dwarf to turn back to the _draq_. "I need a drink. You need a drink? Of course, you do. Come with me, bird. Let's go stuff our faces."

Gallard gave Keldarion's shoulder a sympathetic pat and went to follow Gimli. The _draq_ didn't need a drink, but he surely needed to give company to a particular dwarf who looked dangerously close to weeping.

A moment later, Elladan also left after giving some instructions to Keldarion on what signs to look for in Legolas' deteriorating condition. "Call  us immediately if anything changes," he said, "Don't wait."

Keldarion shut the door and returned to Legolas' bed. "Father?"

His father didn't even look up at his approach, but the elven king did respond, "Do you think his time is finally overdue?"

That made Keldarion stop. Had his father given up hope already?

"No," the prince replied with full conviction. "Legolas still has at least one more millennia on his life, mark my words."

Thranduil looked up then with a sad smile. "You seem so very sure."

"I _am_ sure. My brother is a stubborn block, isn't he? He never surrenders. He never quits. He always bounces back after he goes down. He always recovers after he gets hurt. He always returns when we think he…he is gone for gg…good." Keldarion's voice finally cracked. "He always returns…"

Wordlessly, Thranduil rose and went to hug his eldest son.

"He is _not _dying," Keldarion adamantly said, even though he realized the extent of his brother's grave condition. "He will get better."

"I agree." Thranduil nodded, gathered his composure and pulled away from the embrace. "Thank you for reminding me."

Keldarion sniffed and escaped from his father's gaze, willing his tears not to spill over. He paused when he noticed the stack of sketchbooks atop the small table. Curious, he picked one up and turned the pages. After a while, his face drained of all colors.

"What the bloody heck is this?" he exclaimed with a gasp, a look of utter horror conquering his face.

"Oh, I should've gotten rid of them years ago," Thranduil responded. He was seated by Legolas' side once more.

"_What_?" Keldarion was understandably incredulous. "You mean you _knew_? You knew about all these…these…appalling sketches?"

"Of course, I knew. He is my son. And there's nothing about either of you I don't know," Thranduil said, straightening the coverlet that covered Legolas to his waist. "I even know where you hide that portrait Legolas did of you naked."

Keldarion choked, his eyes bulging. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, but he was unable to make a quick rejoinder.

"Father, don't change the subject," he finally managed to snap. "We are not talking about that bloody portrait. We are talking about _these_ portraits, a whole bunch of them in my hands. What are we to do about them?"

"Put them back on top of that ledge, where they belong," Thranduil easily replied.

That was not what Keldarion wanted to hear. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Thranduil nodded. "Frankly speaking, I want to burn them—the hideous ones, I mean. But they belong to Legolas. It's like his journal, didn't you realize? It's up to him what he wants to do with them."

Although he didn't fully agree, Keldarion knew that his father spoke the truth. "I believe this is why he went berserk earlier. He saw the sketches, put two and two together and came up with ten! Stupid bloody idiot."

"Yes, he got the wrong conclusions," the king confirmed. He ran a loving hand down Legolas' cool face. "The boy can be terribly dense some times."

"Make that _all_ the time," Keldarion scoffed. He gathered the sketch books in one arm, leaped atop a dresser and climbed over to the ledge he knew to be Legolas' favorite brooding spot. Reluctantly, Keldarion pushed the books to very farthest corner, stared at them for one very last time before climbing back down.

As he had promised Elladan, Keldarion took the first watch, but his father refused to leave his ailing son's side. So they sat silently together on either side of Legolas, watching him breathe what could be his last, desperately seeking for any signs of recovery, and hoping not to see any symptoms of infection.

Later, at midnight, Narasene entered the room—cradling a dozing son on each arm.

"I can't stay away," she claimed as she came near her husband's bed. "I just can't, and please don't make me."

"Oh, Nara. Of course we won't make you stay away. How can we?" Thranduil rose and took little Hadrian from her before giving her a hug. "You deserve to sit with him just as much as we do."

Keldarion also stood, pulling Linden into his arms. "He will want to see your face first when he wakes up."

Narasene sat down on the bed to peer anxiously at Legolas' pale countenance. "He has not awakened? But Aragorn said they managed to stop the bleeding."

"They did, but…" Looking briefly at Thranduil for support, Keldarion grudgingly added, "Legolas is not out of the woods yet.  He still needs to do a lot of recovering."

Tenderly, Narasene ran her fingers through Legolas' hair—combing it down back to order. "He was such an idiot, hurting Aragorn like that. But I love him just the same."

"Idiot? Make that a three-time stupid numbskull!" Thranduil then quickly looked down at the stirring elfling he cradled in his arms. "Oops. I forgot that innocent ears are listening."

Hadrian blinked groggily at his grandfather, nuzzled against the king's breast and promptly fell back to sleep. Thranduil's face softened. "Innocence. What a precious thing that is."

The door opened once more. This time Aislinn walked in, and she carried a tray of refreshments with her.

Still holding his nephew, Keldarion rushed over to her. "What are you doing, carrying heavy things around?"

"Oh, posh. I'm pregnant, not a weakling," Aislinn smirked, but she let her husband take the tray from her with his one free arm.

"Still, you need not do any strenuous work. Let the servants do it," Keldarion grumbled, placing the tray on the side table.

"Really, beloved, you worry too much." Shaking her head at him, Aislinn then turned to look on Legolas. "He still sleeps?"

Narasene just nodded, unable to say more due to the tightening in her throat.

Aislinn patted her shoulder. "That's a good sign. It's a healing sleep. He will be cranky when he wakes up, though, I think."

Straightening up, she turned to the king. "Would you like some tea, my lord?"

Without waiting his response, the woman poured him a cup and handed it over. When she faced her husband next, Keldarion spoke first, "No, I don't want any bloody tea. I want you. Come here."

He grabbed her hand and tugged her towards the love seat by the window. There, they sat cuddled together, cradling the sleeping Linden between them.

Not long after, Elladan and Elrohir appeared, thinking to take over Keldarion's shift of taking watch. But Keldarion _or_ Thranduil had no intention to leave their posts at all, so the twins resumed by making a thorough checkup on their patient with the others watching like hawks over their shoulders.

When they were done, both Elladan and Elrohir exchanged looks only they understood before retreating into a corner to have some private discussions.

Moments afterward, the door opened and in walked Aragorn, hand-in-hand with Arwen. The man's looks had improved now that he had treated his own cuts and bruises, but he still appeared wan and a bit strained. He stopped by Legolas' bed, frowned to see no improvement in his friend's condition, and then went to join his brothers.

The door opened.

_Again._

"Hey. How's it going?" Gallard said, looking sheepish. "I can't sleep. Might as well be here keeping you all company."

Behind him, Gimli stumbled in, looking slightly tipsy from all the wine he had drank that night. "I need to look at that crazy elf. He is still alive, isn't he?"

The dwarf nearly toppled over when he bent to peer at Legolas, but Thranduil managed to grab the back of his tunic just in time.

"You are drunk!" the elven king growled, pushing the dwarf away in disgust.

"Am not!" Gimli retorted and sat down abruptly on the floor when the room started spinning on him. "Dwarves _never_ get drunk."

"Stupid braggart," Thranduil snapped.

"I could say the same about you too, my lord," said the dwarf, "To think that you…"

"Hush, please," Narasene interrupted, but she was gazing intently at her husband. "I think Legolas is coming around now."

That got everyone's attention and they all swarmed the bed, staring anxiously at Legolas whose eyes finally fluttered open.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Legolas couldn't recall how many times he had awakened that way—looking up at so many faces peering down at him. From their grim expression, he had no trouble deducing that this time might also be the last.

"Legolas? Darling?" Narasene was stroking his head. "Can you hear me, sweetheart?"

He feebly raised one hand to clutch hers. "I hear you…just fine…Nara…"

"Oh, thank the stars," Thranduil gushed in relief, squeezing Legolas' other hand. "We have been so worried, boy. About time you rejoined the world."

Legolas didn't respond to that. He knew right away that something was not fully right with his body. The fear he felt then was immense. What if this was only a ruse, for him to wake up briefly only to fall back to oblivion, never to wake up again?

"Legolas?" Keldarion's gentle voice pulled him back to awareness. "We are here. We are _all_ here. Don't worry a thing. Just rest and get better."

"You will be fine, son," Thranduil added, "Elladan and Elrohir have checked you over. And so did Aragorn. They will tell us if anything's out of the ordinary."

Elladan and his brothers stirred with discomfort. "Then we're sorry to be the bearer of bad news, my lord," the eldest twin said with a somber tone, "Because something _is_ out of the ordinary."

Thranduil's expression instantly darkened. "_Now_ you decide to tell us?"

"Father." Legolas tugged at the king's hand. "It's all right. Let him…explain."

With an apologetic glance at Legolas, Elladan took a deep breath and faced the others before saying, "We've taken the necessary steps while inspecting the wound. We found out that…"

Elladan suddenly lost courage, so Elrohir quickly came to his twin's aid, "Internal bleeding has started anew, and there are some tell-tale signs that infection has set in. Without his spleen, Legolas has no defense whatsoever. "

In other words, Legolas was dying right before their very eyes.

To everyone present, it was as if they were being hit by a splash of cold water in the face—shocking and confounding. For a long painful moment, silence reigned.

As his family and friends stared at one another with growing dismay, a sense of calm strangely came over Legolas. "I expected as much," he said with a sad smile. "I guess I've…finally run out of luck. Maybe it's time I fade away."

"Stop saying that," his father admonished. "You cannot be sure…"

"Please, father, let me finish," said Legolas imploringly. "I know this is hard, but it must be spoken. I feel the life of me…slowly drifting away, even as I speak. I may not have the chance...or time…after this."

The elf looked directly at Aragorn. "Estel. It's all…so fuzzy, but I remember you now. We are blood brothers."

The man came near to grasp his friend's forearm. "Forgive me for causing all this."

"No, Estel. It was all me." Legolas managed a weak chuckle. "I was being stupid. I'm sorry I tried to kill you."

Aragorn could hardly speak. The lump in his throat felt so huge. "Most people…would think it is a great honor…to die by your hands, my friend. Including me."

  Legolas returned the man's grip as much as his strength would allow. "Ah, but then…you would be a too easy kill, brother," he teased.

That was the last straw. Aragorn's tears spilled over as he kissed Legolas's knuckles, and then he stumbled away towards the balcony, already weeping uncontrollably. Arwen hurried after her husband to give him comfort.

Elladan and Elrohir leaned down to squeeze Legolas' shoulders. "Prove us wrong," they simultaneously said. "_Please, _prove us wrong."

"I'll see what I can do," Legolas jokingly replied, even though tears were swimming in his eyes.

The twins moved aside for Gimli, but the dwarf simply glared.

"I'm not saying goodbye! Why should I? That crazy elf is not going anywhere!" he growled. He turned to Gallard, "Come on, _draq_. Let's go play a game of cards while we wait for him gather his senses."

With a slight shrug, Gallard grinned sadly as he patted Legolas' knee. "I'll look after the crazy dwarf."

Legolas watched with sorrow as Gallard joined Gimli on the couch across the room. He knew that the dwarf was in denial, knew that Gimli was taking the news pretty hard, but Legolas just had no better words to say to appease his oldest and dearest friend.

"Don't expect to hear any goodbyes from me," Thranduil snarled. "You think I'm going to let you simply give up, just like that?"

Legolas' tears fell unchecked. As always, his father hid his fear with anger.

"Neither will I," said Keldarion, looking equally upset and having trouble not to cry. "I'm going to sit here by your feet to give them a hearty whack if you as much as show signs of...of d…d…dying."

Swallowing hard, Legolas seek the right words to say to the both of them. In the end, he only managed, "I love you too."

Thranduil had to clear his throat repeatedly before he could speak. "Likewise. Now I want you to just lay back and relax. You will wake up tomorrow morning, hale and restored."

"You truly believe…I will see another tomorrow?"

"Yes," both Keldarion and Thranduil replied, nodding their heads vigorously.

"So stop whining and go back to sleep," his father added, patting little Hadrian who started to stir awake in his arms.

Unable to make any appropriate response, Legolas looked to his other side—towards Narasene. She was silently weeping, but she mustered a smile for him, leaned down and kissed his lips passionately.

With her, no words were needed after all.

"Dada?"

Not surprisingly, Hadrian and Linden decided to come awake at the same time, asking for their father. The twins struggled to get to him.

 "All right, all right," said Thranduil as he put down his grandson. "Hold your horses, boy. And don't jostle your father. He is hurt."

"Hurt?" Linden also broke away from his uncle's hold to crawl up to Legolas' side. "You hurt bad, Dada?"

Legolas was able to put up a cheerful face for his sons. "Of course not. Dada is a _super_ elf, remember?"

The twins innocently giggled. "Can we sleep with you, Dada? Can we? Please?"

"Oh. But, darlings, Dada needs to…"

"It's all right, Nara," Legolas said, already swiping the covers to let the twins snuggle in. He gathered the elflings to either side of him and hugged them close, half sobbing. "Sleep t…tight, boys. I…I love you…"

"Love you too, Dada." Hadrian and Linden each wrapped one arm around their father, linked their free hands on his chest and steadily drifted back to sleep.

Legolas closed his eyes, trying to stem the stubborn flow of tears. As someone tugged the blanket over him and his sons, questions swam in his mind.

_Am I going to survive this night? Will I live another day? After I die, what becomes of my loved ones? Will they live on?_

Legolas drifted into a coma not long afterwards.

It was to be the toughest vigil in history for Legolas' family and immediate friends, because they knew that only miracles would bring him back this time.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The sound of birds chirping pulled Legolas back to consciousness.

He eyes blinked, disoriented. Looking to his left, he found Narasene stretched out on her side on the same bed with him, with the twins.

He glanced to his right. Thranduil was nodding off in his huge seat.

When he looked straight ahead, he found Keldarion sitting with his back against one of the bedposts, Aislinn's head resting on his lap.

He raised his head a little and scanned the room. The rest of his friends were either lying or sitting in any available spaces they could find.

Gimli lay slumped on the couch, while Gallard was fully stretched several feet away on a mat right in front of the hearth. Arwen lay in Aragorn's arm on the love seat by the window. Elladan and Elrohir each took a chair near to the balcony door.

They were still asleep, his family and his friends.

And then he realized something else.

He was alive. He survived the night!

"Son? You're awake?"

Thranduil's voice was so soft it was almost a whisper, but Legolas heard it loud and clear. He smiled at his father. "It is morning."

"Yes, it's morning." The elven king numbly nodded, looking so shock _and _elated. "Looks like you'll see another tomorrow after all."

"Tomorrow once more," Legolas agreed. He promptly broke into tears and lunged into his father's arms. "There will be another tomorrow for me!"

Thranduil also cried, and laughed and then cried again, sobbing noisily as he crushed his son in his embrace. The sound woke everybody else at once.

"What? What? What's going on?" Keldarion jumped to his feet in great alarm. "Oh, no. Is he…?"

Thranduil pulled back so that Keldarion could see his brother giving him a teary grin. "Not yet, Kel. Not yet."

Keldarion shook his head with wonder. "Ai, brother. How many lives do you actually have?"

There was no answer for that, so Legolas simply reached over and hugged his brother. Next, he grabbed Narasene and kissed her—long and hard. By that time, everyone else had surrounded the bed, asking questions and growing increasingly excited by the minute.

"See? I told you he's not going anywhere!" Gimli enthused, causing the others to burst into laughter.

Surprisingly, Linden and Hadrian slept on peacefully despite the entire commotion.

In all the confusion, one of them suddenly noticed something very interesting.

"Legolas, how's your leg?" Thranduil asked, staring at the said leg.

"My leg? Uh…which one?"

"The one that I kicked last night, to keep you from getting to Aragorn."

Legolas' mouth dropped opened.  "Whoa. That was you? _You_ kicked me? I thought it was Kel or somebody else."

"I overreacted. Sorry for that."

"No, it's all right, father. If not for your actions, Aragorn might be dead already. I had totally lost my mind then. I didn't know what I was doing."

"Never mind that. But, truly, how is that leg? I broke it, didn't I?"

"Which one was it? The left one or the right? I don't feel any difference."

"I believe it was the left one," Elladan said, also getting mighty interested with this discussion. "I splint it up myself."

"Was it?" Legolas frowned, giving both legs some demonstrated movements. "But it feels…fine. Nope. No broken bones. It's completely healed. Here, see for yourself."

After removing the splint and giving a quick check, they knew that Legolas spoke the truth. His leg—both of them in fact—looked normal.

Something clicked in his mind as Legolas stared at his belly, at the bandage wrapped around his middle. Without a word, he hastily worked at the bindings and began to unwind the dressing.

"Mm…Legolas, do you think that's wise?" Keldarion asked worriedly.

"I just need to make sure," Legolas said. He pulled the final strands of the bandage away to gape at his wound.

Except that there was no more wound. Not even a scar. The skin on his belly was as before—smooth and perfect.

"That's impossible," Aragorn said out loud with a gasp.

"I know your healing skills are good, but _that_ good?" Gallard spoke, looking highly impressed. "What potion did you give him?"

"Trust me. This is not our doing," Elladan said, shaking his head. "What we did was only to stop the bleeding. And no medicine whatsoever can heal a wound _this_ fast. Not overnight."

  "Besides, he _was_ near death. We were certain he would die," said Elrohir, clearly dumbfounded. "We have no ability to do this. It must be Legolas himself. He must have done something."

"_Me_?" Legolas looked dazed. "But…but I don't know how this happened, I swear."

He froze suddenly. The sight of his sleeping sons had jerked his memory somewhat. "Wait. I had a dream just before I woke up. A very peculiar dream, about the twins."

"What about them?" asked Narasene, anxiously.

Legolas didn't answer. He was glancing, back and forth, at Linden and Hadrian snuggling against his sides. "Ai, Elbereth. Is this possible?"

"What are you saying?" Thranduil asked as he also peered at his grandsons.

"_Manyan_. That's the only explanation," Legolas said, tears spilling over his cheek once more, this time with mixed reactions. He didn't exactly know what he should feel for the new discovery. Joyful? Sad? Fear?

"One of my sons is a _manyan_healer," he tearfully claimed, pulling both twins into his arms, "But which one?"

Thranduil made the decision for him. The king reached up and moved his fingers down the back of Hadrian's neck. He yelped audibly when he found what he had been looking for.

"He has it." Thranduil visibly trembled while saying this. "Hadrian has the stone of _manya_ in his neck."

"So has Linden," announced Keldarion, going white in the face. He had done the same inspection on his other nephew and found the slight tiny bump there, on Linden's nape right under the child's dark hair. "Linden is a _manyan_ too."

Legolas' entire body started shaking. "No. No, no, no. That can't be. Two _manyans_? But there can be only one!"

It was understandable that he was terribly scared. The last time a pair of twins were _manyans_, one of them had killed the other. That was why afterwards only one _manyan_ existed at one time, to escape such tragic conflicts.

Legolas exchanged troubled gazes with his wife. "We've created a pair of _manyan_ healers. What the blazes are we going to do?"

Biting her lips to stop herself from bawling uncontrollably, Narasene just shook her head and gathered her precious family into her arms.

As usual, whenever he was in any predicament, Legolas looked up to his father and brother for aid.

"_Please_. Please help me," he implored, "I honestly don't know what to do now."

"You don't have to do anything," Thranduil soothingly said. "I believe it's all going to be fine, Legolas. You'll see."

"But two _manyan_s? It is not supposed to be that way."

"Maybe this time it is," Keldarion stated with encouraging smile. "Count your blessings, brother. You deserved it."

Legolas turned back to Narasene. His wife smiled back. "It's definitely a blessing, my love. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, but…" Still unsure of what this new outcome would entail or what his sons' future would bring, Legolas turned to face the others.

To his surprise, he came to realize that his memory was fully restored. His sons' doing, no doubt.

"I remember everything now," he said, smiling finally. "The year is 3021. I got hit by lightning while climbing down the redwood tree in the garden. It was your birthday, father."

"This is truly a blessing then," Thranduil exclaimed. "Your memory is back!"

"Oh, yes, it is. I remember everything now," Legolas grinned at his father. "I just wish I didn't remember crashing into your chamber that morning and interrupted your little extra curricular activities..."

Thranduil's face reddened.

The others looked on with bafflement when the elven king wordlessly raised his hand and smacked his younger son upside the head. Then, roaring with laughter, he crushed Legolas into his embrace. Also laughing—though he didn't fully understand what the head-smacking was all about just now—Keldarion joined in.

"Oh, goody! Group hug," Aislinn squealed, pushing under her husband's arm to get included.

For fear of breaking the bed, the rest stayed back but they recompensed by giving a merry applause. Gimli even went out the door and shouted, "Bring up the wine! The crazy elf lives on!"

The crazy elf lived on indeed.

Epilogue

It was a week later when another mishap struck Legolas.

He was sitting in his father's garden, sharpening his twin blades—all the while keeping a close watch on his twin sons who were playing among the flowers.

Linden jumped about to catch a butterfly, with Hadrian egging him on. As it flew higher and away, the boys quickly lost interest and started to hound something else. They saw a white rabbit hopping out of the vegetable patch, so of they went, sliding and tumbling after it.

Legolas laughed at their antics, but his laughter instantly turned into a yell of anguish as the whetstone he held slipped, causing the sharp edge of the blade to slide up his arm.

With a curse, Legolas dropped everything to clutch at the wound. Blood was already dripping from it to land on the grass at his feet.

"You clumsy clot!" he swore at himself, looking frantically around for something to bind the cut.

His sons came running then. "What happened, Dada?"

"Dada was careless, that's what happened," Legolas replied through gritted teeth. He was about to head back to the palace for treatment when he thought of something.

Crouching until he was eye level to his sons, Legolas asked, "Err…can either one of you help me here?"

Linden and Hadrian looked quizzically at each other, and then back at their father. "Help you how, Dada?"

"Heal me, like what you did to me last week. Remember? That night when I almost died?"

"But I didn't do it," said Linden with a shrug.

"So it was you, then," Legolas spoke to his other child.

Hadrian shook his head. "Not me either."

Legolas was thoroughly confused. If it were not his sons, then who did? But the twins were _manyan_s.

Or weren't they?

**THE END**

**I'm sure you all just '_love'_ the twist. He he he…**

**So what could this mean? The start of a new fic? Hmm. Maybe, maybe.**

**Before I sign off, I would like to say THANK YOU to all of you for reading, THANK YOU for never giving up on me, and THANK YOU for just being fanfic fans. You give aspiring writers like me the passion to continue on writing even though when it feels as if the world has come crashing down on you. You make me go on, guys.**

**And a special THANK YOU to my beta, Sara. Love you, girl. You've helped me a LOT! My English has vastly improved because of you! Hugs and kisses to you. Mmwuah!**

**Okay, guys. That's it for 'Tomorrow Once More'. Meet you all in another story.**

**Adromir**** has left the building! **


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